


Against all odds

by Julieseven, LoveThem2121, Twinklylightseverywhere



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Canadian Isak, Concentration Camps, Even has a hellish childhood, Even is a hero in Nazi Germany, Even's father and brother are nazis, German Even, Isak Takes Care of Even, Isak is a soldier, Isak's father is a drunk, Jonas and Isak grow up as brothers, Late night talks, M/M, Minor Character Death, Paratroopers, Seriously we hate ourselves for it, Soldier AU, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-06-10 07:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15286365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julieseven/pseuds/Julieseven, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThem2121/pseuds/LoveThem2121, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinklylightseverywhere/pseuds/Twinklylightseverywhere
Summary: Isak Daniel Whitman joins the Canadian Army in 1943 together with his best friend Jonas, mostly to get away from his abusive father. They sign up for the 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion and arrive in Europe in June 1944, just in time for D-Day. Whereas Isak almost expects to die on his first day, he lives through a nightmarish few months in Normandy and later in Belgium. In the middle of winter, he makes a discovery he never expected and that changes his life forever.Even Erich Becker grows up as a farmer's boy in rural Rheinland-Pfalz, Germany. After losing his mother to pneumonia at age 12, he experiences the rise of the Third Reich, mostly through his brother and father, who both fiercely believe in National Socialism. Even himself however doesn't understand why he should suddenly hate Jews, especially since his long-time friend and neighbour Sonja is Jewish and has never been anything but kind to him. That's why when she comes to him for help one day, Even doesn't hesitate to do what he can to save Sonja's life. That plan works well for a while until it all goes horribly wrong.A series of tragic and dark events brings the two men together in the most dramatic way...





	1. WE ARE SORRY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heartfelt apology from two slightly stressed but motivated authors

Dear readers and dear fellow Big-Bangers

 

We are supposed to give you a finished story today, but we got into a bit of trouble ... we bit off more than we could chew and our story is so big that we need a bit more time to finish it. During the day today, we will post the two first chapters, but we can't predict when the next two will come out. We are working very hard though and will do our best to not let you suffer for too long!

 

Allow us to present the amazing art created by our wonderful artist LISA @LoveThem2121! She's so talented and even made two full photo sets for us to fit the story once we told her what it was going to be about! Her tumblr is mu-zi-light if you want to give her the shoutout she deserves!

Now stay tuned for the first two chapters, they are coming soon!

 

A big hug from Noah and Sue


	2. Jonas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak and Jonas grew up together. At the age of 22, they make a life-changing decision.

Isak is just four years old when Jonas becomes his brother. And although Isak has always wished for a brother, the way it happens is so excruciatingly painful he wishes he could just forget about it.

 

On a sunny day in July, Jonas’s parents fall to their deaths while looking for berries in the woods outside of Kamloops. The Vasquez family has always been poor, even poorer than Isak’s parents, so they’ve tried to make a living with whatever they can find. Luckily, the woods of British Columbia are full of edible plants anyway. And with time, Jonas’s parents have discovered that the best berries grow on patches of grass in the middle of a cliff deep inside the forest. By now, Jonas’s parents know exactly how to get to those spots and back up the wall without getting stuck.

 

But then on that fateful summer day, they don’t return after leaving Jonas at the Whitman’s house to go on one of their day trips to the woods.

 

Isak will never forget the look on his father’s face when he leaves the house shortly after nightfall to go look for them. Neither he nor Jonas sleep a wink that night, and when Isak’s father returns in the early morning and breaks down crying in Isak’s mother’s arms, Jonas’s world collapses around him.

 

Both Isak and Jonas can’t stop crying for days afterwards. For almost a week, the two of them only leave Isak’s bed to go to the bathroom and sometimes eat a small piece of bread. Isak tries his best to comfort Jonas, telling him that he’ll never be alone and that Isak’s parents think of Jonas as their own son anyways. Jonas hardly replies, but when he does he thanks Isak and says that he will do his best to be like a brother for him.

 

Of course, Isak is right: His parents take Jonas in without question. Daniel Vasquez has been Isak’s father’s best friend ever since they went to school together, and Isak’s mother Marianne really does think of Jonas as a second son anyway.

 

The two of them start school together in the fall of 1928, and by that time, Jonas and Isak are referring to each other as brothers. There is no official adoption process, since their little farming community in Kamloops is far away from any kind of government institution, but the teachers always call both Jonas and Isak by the last name Whitman, as does everyone else.

 

At the beginning of their second school year, Isak and Jonas start hearing the grown-ups talking about some kind of “crash” and that it would ruin them all. Isak doesn’t understand how something that is happening in big cities far away could affect their lives in the country. And since Mom still sends him and Jonas to school every day and the rest of their lives hasn't changed either, Isak doesn’t really worry about what people are talking about for a while.

 

But then, Isak’s father starts acting weird. He’s always been angry a lot, but when the effects of The Great Depression start making life harder and harder for the Whitmans, things get infinitely worse. More often than not, David leaves the cleaning of the stables to Jonas and Isak while he goes to the pub nearby to get drunk out of his mind every night. The two boys have been used to farm work ever since they were six, but now they’re all but alone. And whenever they try asking David to help them, he lashes out at them, both verbally and physically. Isak’s mother does her best to keep her husband from beating up the boys, but most of the time that just makes him angrier. 

 

By the time Isak and Jonas are twelve years old, the two of them are basically running the farm on their own with the help of Isak’s mother. They drop out of school after fifth grade as a consequence. And it’s not only because they don’t have time to go anymore, but also because Marianne can’t help but admit that school is becoming too expensive. To make matters worse, Isak’s father barely moves except from his chair in the living room to his home-made distillery in the barn and back again. At least that also means he hardly ever has the energy to hit the boys anymore.

 

And when he and Jonas turn seventeen, Isak feels like he doesn’t have a father anymore, despite the fact that David still lives on the farm. Isak’s father hardly speaks to anyone at all, preferring the company of whisky bottles to people most of the time.

 

All things considered, the farm is doing pretty well. The Great Depression is still affecting their daily lives, of course, but they somehow manage to sell enough milk and grain to scrape by.

 

They’re so busy with the farm that Isak never even thinks about girls or the prospect of getting married. At least not until Eva comes into their lives and turns everything upside down.

 

Eva is the same age as Isak and Jonas, but she didn’t go to school with them. Her father owns a bakery in the village of Kamloops, and since they usually have their stand close to where Isak and Jonas sell their milk and grain, the three of them become friends. They spend the afternoons after the market together, taking long walks in the woods and talking about everything and nothing.

 

After a few months, Isak begins to think of Eva as the “third musketeer” of their group of sorts. She’s more outspoken than most girls Isak knows from school or the neighbourhood, and she’s a bit clumsy, just like Isak. They bond over that fact a lot, and Isak is grateful that Eva never tries to make a move on him. She’s easy to be around, and really, Isak thinks that if more girls were like her he might even consider getting married one day.

 

Maybe that’s why Isak feels a little sting in his heart when Jonas asks Isak whether he thinks he should ask Eva out. They’re on their walk home after the farmer’s market, and when Isak looks at Jonas, he’s surprised to see his best friend blushing.

 

“Do you… like her?” Isak asks stupidly, but Jonas just nods quickly and then looks at his shoes.

 

Isak’s hands are suddenly sweaty and he feels inexplicably angry. Before he can stop himself, he spits out a forceful “Why?” at Jonas, who stares at  him in shock.

 

“Uh, because… I mean, she’s cute, don’t you think?” Jonas finally gets out, sounding hurt, and Isak immediately feels bad.

 

Taking a deep breath, he forces a smile onto his lips and nods, briefly meeting his best friend’s eye. 

 

“I guess, yeah. I mean, I’m not attracted to her, but she looks okay,” Isak finally manages, making Jonas chuckle.

 

“You’re attracted to no one, Isak,” he says, patting Isak's shoulder blade. His tone is teasing yet kind when he adds: “I wonder if you'll ever get married at all with how picky you are.”

 

Isak thinks about that for a moment. He doesn't like the idea of getting married and having children. If he could choose, he'd just spend the rest of his life roaming the woods with Jonas, building dams in creeks and counting stars while lying in the grassy clearing near his parents’ farm. 

 

“Maybe I won't get married,” he suddenly says out loud before he can stop himself.

 

Jonas huffs out a laugh. “Yeah right.” He reaches out to pat Isak’s shoulder again, frowning incredulously. “You could have any girl you want, Isak.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Isak groans loudly and shakes his head. “Well, I haven’t met one I find… extraordinary enough to marry, so what?”

 

Isak’s hands are shaking and he feels his heartbeat in his throat. He hates talking about girls, particularly with Jonas. His best friend always insists that Isak is a true ‘ladies man’, while he himself can hardly work up the courage to so much as talk to a girl. Isak, however, doesn’t see it that way. He couldn’t care less about the girls staring at him from across the square at the market, and he sometimes wishes they just weren’t there at all. On the other hand, he has noticed Eva watching Jonas, and that bothers Isak even more. He’s afraid that once Jonas gets up the courage to ask Eva out on a date, they will get married within a year and Isak will be alone for the rest of his life. Jonas is the only real friend Isak has, and he doesn’t feel like sharing him with anyone, let alone a girl.

 

“Fine, suit yourself,” Jonas interrupts Isak’s thoughts, chuckling quietly.

 

Shaking his head again, Isak looks over at his best friend, who is still frowning at him, however grinning at the same time.

 

“We might have to fight in a war in a few years anyway,” Isak says then, and Jonas’s face falls.

 

“Don’t say that,” he murmurs, sounding scared and a little angry. “Nothing has happened yet after all.”

 

Isak shrugs and when he looks into Jonas’s eyes again, he can tell that his best friend believes his own words as little as Isak does.

 

“It’s a matter of weeks until that angry German declares war on someone.” Isak is surprised at how calm he sounds, although he knows what it would mean if he were right.

 

If Germany were to declare war, it would most likely be on England, and that would mean Canada would have to join. And Isak knows his father well enough to be sure that he will prod and insult Isak until he signs up for the army. David Whitman may have drunk himself half to death by now, but his patriotic soul is alive and well.

 

“Let’s… not think about that until we have to, okay?” Jonas finally says, and Isak is glad that they’ve just reached the farmhouse. He doesn’t like seeing Jonas sad, and talking about the impending war always makes Jonas angry and sad at the same time.

 

Yeah, okay,” Isak replies then and opens the door, holding it for his best friend. “After all, we might starve before we so much as get to a training camp anyway.”

 

Jonas huffs out a soundless laugh but smiles gratefully at Isak, and it helps make Isak feel that maybe- just maybe- everything will be okay after all.

  
  


For almost four years after that, things actually aren’t too bad. Although Hitler declares war on Poland on September 1st in 1939, Western Canada remains mostly unaffected at first. There are enough volunteers from the big cities in the East eager to join England in the war, and it’s not like Isak and Jonas can just up and leave Marianne alone. 

 

In the summer of 1941, Jonas and Eva get married, and thankfully, Isak doesn’t feel as bad about it as he expected. He likes the way Jonas smiles when he’s talking to Eva, and the two of them make an effort to never let Isak feel left out. Eva is also a very big help around the farm: She’s stronger than most other girls and therefore has no trouble cleaning out stables and hauling around heavy bags of grain. 

 

However, in early 1943, it becomes clear that Canada will need to send more soldiers to Europe to help win the war. In early May, Isak and Jonas see a sign on the market saying that the army is looking for volunteers for their new parachute battalion, and both boys are immediately drawn to the idea.

 

“Jumping out of the sky with a gun and taking out enemies— that must be great,” Isak says to Jonas on their way home, waving his hands excitedly. He didn’t expect to be excited about the prospect of going to war. But they’ve heard lots of evil things about what the Germans are doing in their own country, and although Jonas always warns Isak to take everything the newspapers write with a grain of salt, Isak is sure that not all of it are lies.

 

“I don’t know, it sounds kind of dangerous.” Jonas shrugs, but he’s smiling slightly. “Do you really think we have to go?”

 

Isak purses his lips, his heart suddenly feeling heavy. He knows Jonas doesn’t want to leave Eva, but he also knows that the two of them have talked a lot about feeling responsible for their country lately. And it’s not like he himself is particularly excited about putting his life on the line, but Isak doesn’t want to feel like a coward when the war is over.

 

“I think so, yeah,” he says slowly, reaching out to pat Jonas’s shoulder. “I mean, for all we know we can jump directly into Berlin and end this whole thing in a matter of days you know?”

 

Jonas laughs at that and pulls Isak into a one-armed hug. In the back of his head, Isak registers that he used to feel all jittery when Jonas touched him like that. He thinks that the main reason that has changed is because Jonas’s marriage to Eva has turned out to be more of a blessing than a curse. By now, Isak is convinced that nothing stands in the way of Jonas remaining Isak’s best friend anymore. 

 

Except maybe the prospect of the two of them dying in a war in Europe, but Isak forces himself not to think about that.

 

A few days later, Isak comes home alone after a long day out in the village. He hears his mother working in the kitchen, and before he can even call out a hello, her voice booms through the hallway.

 

“Isak Daniel Whitman, where in God's name have you been?”

 

Mom is angry at him for being late, but Isak knows her too well not to hear the smirk in her voice before he even sees her.

“Sorry Mom, I was helping Jonas in the stables,” he lies as he takes off his heavy leather boots at the door before walking down the hall to join his mother in the kitchen.

“Jonas is on his way to the Fullers to deliver something,” Mom retorts, eyeing Isak with a stern expression. She’s standing at the stove, stirring what looks like cabbage soup in a big pot, and when Isak approaches to kiss her cheek she rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Why do you always lie to me? You know I can tell every time.”

Isak sighs exaggeratedly and leans against the wooden cabinet next to the gas stove. “Because I don't want to worry you more than necessary, Mom.” He watches her carefully for a moment. Mom always knows when he’s lying and she also has a tendency to be overbearing sometimes. But when her eyes meet his, they’re full of acceptance, as if she already knew what Isak is about to tell her.

 

“A mother always worries, Isak. It's my right to worry about you as much as I want. After all, it was me who brought you into this world, so it's only normal for me to be afraid of you leaving it again too soon.”

 

Her voice is calm, almost too much so, and Isak has to swallow hard and look at his socks for a moment before he meets his mother's gaze again.

 

“I signed up for the Armed Forces,” he all but whispers and feels a sting in his heart when Mom's breath catches. 

 

She stops stirring the soup and blinks a few times before clearing her throat. “Which unit?” she asks, her voice almost breaking. 

 

“Uh, it's a brand new one, the Parachute Battalion. The commander said we’re going to be Canada’s first airborne unit. Pretty fancy stuff.”

 

Isak's stomach sinks at the terrified look in his mother’s eyes. He expected her to be concerned, but seeing the fear on her face up close hurts a lot more than he thought.

 

“By ‘fancy’ you mean it's the most dangerous place to be since no one knows what exactly you're doing?” she inquires, trying to sound sarcastic, but her voice is shaking. “I assume Jonas is joining as well? Does Eva know what you’ve dragged her husband into, Isak?”

 

This time, Isak doesn’t look back up, his eyes stinging with tears. “Eva knows, yes. And she agrees we have to do something.” Isak takes a deep breath and swallows his tears before going on. “Mom, I just… Jonas wants to go and I can’t let him go alone,” he croaks, trying to sound confident but failing spectacularly. Still, he goes on. “Plus, if we’re going to go to war, we might as well join a unit that actually has a shot at making a difference, you know?”

 

Mom scoffs and wipes her face with both palms before grabbing the wooden spoon again and resuming to stir the soup, pointedly not looking at Isak. “I guess so,” she says quietly, and Isak just has to hug her.

 

Stepping behind her, he wraps both arms around his mother’s waist, hooking his chin on her shoulder. “I promise I’ll come back. You know I’d never leave you alone,  _ Mamma _ .”

 

Isak almost smiles when he notices Mom’s breath catch at the last word. She doesn’t hear it often from him, and with good reason. Whenever she gets upset with him, Isak uses the Norwegian word for “Mom” to appease her, and although she knows he does it just for that, it still works every time.

 

Marianne Whitman had an interesting life before she got married. She used to live in downtown Vancouver, where she met people from all over the world. Among them was Tonje, a woman from Oslo, Norway. She and Marianne were best friends for years, until Tonje got word that her mother had died and she had to go back home to take care of her sick father. But Marianne did her best to stay in touch with Tonje. Shortly before Isak was born, Tonje wrote to Marianne that her father was dead. And that was why Marianne decided to name her son Isak, after Tonje’s father. David didn't care about the unusual spelling and called his son ‘Isaac’, but Marianne made sure Isak knew where his name came from. She even taught him the few sentences in Norwegian she'd learned from Tonje, telling him it was always useful to know another language. 

 

With a deep sigh, Mom leans back against Isak’s chest for a moment before disengaging herself and turning around to look at her son. Her pained expression makes Isak’s insides twist uncomfortably, but he forces himself not to look away.

 

“You can’t promise me that, Isak. It’s a war. People die in wars,” Mom says matter-of-factly, and Isak just nods, because she’s right.

 

“I know,” he finally manages, taking a deep breath before adding: “And I think you know it’s not Jonas who really wants to go. It’s me.”

 

Mom nods and turns back to the stove, covering the pan with the lid before heaving it onto the table in the middle of the room. “You’ve always been the braver one of the two of you,” she says, sounding almost fond. “The more stupid one as well, so I should be glad Jonas is going with you to watch your back.”

 

Isak chuckles shortly and follows his mother over to the table, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I have to do- something,” he murmurs, and when Mom turns to look at him, there is a small smile on her lips.

 

“I know,” she replies, cupping Isak’s face with one hand. “As much as I hate the idea of you going to that hell-hole, I’m glad you’ll get out of here.” 

 

Swallowing hard, Isak wraps his arms around his mother’s shoulders and pulls her close. “Thank you,” he whispers into her hair, hating himself for being such a coward while simultaneously feeling grateful that she isn’t too angry with him.

  
What Marianne doesn’t say is that she’s glad Isak won’t have to deal with his father anymore. By now, David is all but a ghost, always in a drunken haze, only opening his mouth to yell insults at Isak, Jonas, Eva and his own wife every once in a while. It’s depressing to be around him, but that’s exactly why Isak feels  so guilty for leaving his mother behind. He fears that once he and Jonas are gone, his father will start mistreating her and Eva.

 

That’s why when he and Mom sit down for their humble dinner- cabbage soup and old bread- Isak clears his throat and waits for his mother to look at him, a serious expression on his face. 

“Mom, can you please just… promise me you and Eva will leave the second he... “ he trails off, but his mother is already nodding.

 

“I promise, Isak. The only reason I’m still here is you and the fact that David hasn’t given me a reason to abandon him yet.”

 

The next day, Isak and Jonas take a quick break from working on the fields, sitting down on a patch of grass not far from the farm to bask in the sun. For a while, they just sit quietly, closing their eyes and letting the sunlight warm their faces.

 

“Do you think we’ll make it?” Jonas asks eventually, ripping out a handful of grass from between his legs.

 

“Getting into the Parachute Battalion or surviving the war?” Isak retorts, making Jonas scoff and punch his upper arm.

 

“I’m not counting on surviving the war,” he murmurs, and Isak looks up at him in surprise, his heart suddenly beating faster. But Jonas isn’t looking back at him. He’s staring straight ahead into the fields stretching out beneath the hill they’re sitting on, squinting as if he were trying to remember something.

 

Isak licks his lips and then clears his throat, but before he can come up with a reply, Jonas goes on. “I figured before I starve to death I might as well… go out on my own terms, you know?”

 

Shaking his head, Isak moves closer to Jonas and puts an arm around him. “Don’t say that, what will Eva think?” he says, trying to sound calm although his heart is hammering in his chest. He isn’t naive about what it means to go to war, but the thought of Jonas dying makes his insides twist uncomfortably. Besides his mother and Eva, Jonas is the only person Isak trusts. If he loses Jonas, Isak won’t be able to live with himself.

 

When Jonas finally turns his head to look at Isak, the ghost of a smile plays on his lips.

 

“Sorry,” he says quietly, circling his arm around Isak’s middle. “It’s not that I want to die, I mean, I have a wife and you and your mom to live for. But I know that your parents had enough money trouble when we were kids. And now we’re adults and business for the farm has only gotten worse since the war started, so I’m just a burden to your folks anyway.”

 

Jonas’s words are painful to hear, but Isak can’t help but admit to himself that he’s had a similar thought. Mamma and Eva will manage to keep the farm going, and with two less mouths to feed, it might actually go easier. Nonetheless, he has to reassure his best friend.

 

“You could never be a burden, Jonas. You’re family,” he says, smiling warmly and reaching out to squeeze Jonas’s forearm. “I hope you’re not just doing this because you feel you have to.”

 

At that, Jonas grins at Isak, shaking his head. “No, man.” He chuckles and reaches up to pat Isak’s shoulder. “I’m going because someone has got to watch out for your dumb ass. You’ll end up as cannon fodder in less than a day without me.”

 

They both laugh and when Jonas lets go of him, Isak shakes his head, flashing a cheeky grin at his best friend. “Says the guy who can’t even push a wheelbarrow across a field without falling over every five steps,” he murmurs teasingly, making Jonas laugh even more.

 

“Shut up, Whitman,” he calls out eventually, but it sounds more fond than annoyed. 

 

Isak withdraws his hand from Jonas’s shoulder then, crossing his lower arms on his knees as they both stare ahead into the fields again.

 

It’s nice and quiet on that hill, and Isak suddenly finds himself wondering if he’ll ever experience that kind of peace again once he and Jonas have crossed the Atlantic. He doesn’t like that idea, but he knows it’s a very real possibility.

 

“We’ll watch out for each other,” Jonas says after a while, and Isak turns his head to find his best friend smiling warmly at him.

 

“Yeah,” Isak replies simply, nodding and smiling back. His heart is still beating too fast at the thought of him and Jonas actually joining the war in Europe. That’s no small deal, but although Isak has no idea if he will ever get home again, he’s glad that Jonas is going to be on his side.

  
  


Jonas and Isak get on their way to the “Canadian Parachute Training Wing” in Shilo, Manitoba a few weeks later, with only the clothes on their backs. Neither of them have ever owned much anyway, and since it’s late October already, they both put on almost every piece of clothing they own to keep warm.

 

Already on the train, Jonas and Isak meet other young men on the way to the Parachute Training Wing. One of them is the same age as the two of them, and when he finds out that they come from Kamloops, he is delighted.

 

“My mum is from Kelowna, I’ve always wanted to go there,” he exclaims and gets up to join Isak and Jonas in their compartment. “I’m Magnus, by the way. Magnus Foster,” he announces, shaking Isak and Jonas’s hands with an excited giggle. “So, have you guys always wanted to be paratroopers?”

 

Jonas and Isak exchange a doubtful look. “Uh, I wouldn’t say it’s been a lifelong dream exactly,” Jonas says hesitantly, making Magnus chuckle slightly.

 

“Yeah, not for me either. But you have to admit, it is the coolest unit of the army, right?” Magnus looks from Isak to Jonas and back with an excited grin. “We’ll probably end the war from above, can you imagine that?”

 

Although Isak doesn’t really believe that it will be that easy, he can’t help but grin back. Magnus’s enthusiasm is contagious, and soon, the three of them are excitedly discussing their hopes and expectations. In the back of his head, Isak registers that they’re all way too naive about what they’re getting themselves into. Neither Magnus, nor Jonas, nor Isak himself even mention the possibility of them dying in combat. 

 

But for once, Isak is glad that the harsh reality isn’t at the forefront of his mind. Right now, they’re just three young men on their way to a new part of their lives, hoping it won’t be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, what do you think? Come find us here:
> 
> Sue:  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/julieseven)  
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/sue_1188/?hl=de)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Julieseven2)
> 
> Noah:  
> [Tumblr](https://unendeligtid.tumblr.com/)  
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/noahjens198/?hl=de)
> 
> Lisa:  
> [Tumblr](http://mu-zi-light.tumblr.com/)  
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/muuuziiiii/?hl=de)


	3. Sonja

From the moment Even Erich Becker was born on February 12th, 1919, he knew that he was always going to be destined to run.

 

It was hard for Ernst and Marie to raise their son in such terrible conditions, given the state of financial ruin in Germany after the war, but he never ran from that. After all, how could he? Rather, Even was someone who would always run from his problems.

 

Some argue that a father has the greatest influence on a young man’s life. Whoever said that obviously had never met Ernst Becker; a tall, fiercely intimidating man. This was the first person that Even had ever run from. Never once had Even ever remembered getting any type of affection from the man who put a roof over his head. When Even was a child, he was always escaping the confines of his father. He used to sneak into his father’s study at night, and run his chubby fingers along the wood of the worn and cracked desk which had stayed with the family for centuries. He used to steal his father’s writing utensils and parchments, and hide under the desk. From there, he was free, and he let his hands communicate what his mouth could not. That was, of course, until his father would find him hiding underneath the desk, and drag him out with a firm grip on the forearm. Even always had two choices; hide until his father had calmed down, or allow his father’s belt to turn the skin of his back to a blistering red. Even chose the former whenever he could, ducking out from underneath his father's arms, twisting his wrist and yanking upwards to escape the firm grasp. From there, Even was running. He was always running. Sometimes, however, if he was lucky, he would be able to pocket some of his drawings. Only sometimes, though.

There was his older brother, Martin, who, even at such a young age, was weathered and harshened by the very worst that humanity had to offer. He always spoke to Even about needing to “man up”, whatever that meant. According to Martin, Even’s hair was always a little too long, like a girls’. According to Martin, his drawings would never amount to anything. By extension, of course, this meant that Even would never amount to anything. Being the youngest sibling, Even knew that his brother’s cruel words never really meant anything other than Martin trying to get a reaction out of him. However, he couldn’t help but take those words to heart. 

He was a quiet boy, a little estranged, sure, according to his mother. Marie was Even’s favourite person in the whole world. She used to always tell him stories of faraway places, and faraway times. She would tell him about her travels, before the war.

 

_ “Sweden, Denmark, Finland, those places were all amazing,” she’d told Even on a warm, June night, her voice hushed as to not wake Martin, who was sleeping next to them. “But nothing compares to Norway. It’s a beautiful place, of course, with the mountains and fjords. My favourite place was Oslo, though.” _

_ “What’s in Oslo?” Young Even had wondered, fiddling with his much too warm blanket. _

_ “Oslo is where I found your name.” At this, Marie’s eyes went a little distant, lost somewhere in a much simpler time.  _

_ “Martin says that I have a girls’ name,” Even had pouted, casting a glare over at the form of his sleeping brother. _

_ “No, sweetie,” his mother argued, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. “Even was the name of a man that I met when I was in Norway. He was a kind old gentleman, he gave me a place to stay when I’d run out of money.” _

_ “Where is Even?” Even had asked, forgetting about his brother, and instead enthralled in the story. “Can I meet him?” _

_ “He passed a few years back,” she sighed, meeting Even’s eyes with a tight smile. “He’d never lost contact with me, wrote me from time to time. Eventually, however, he stopped writing. A few months later, his daughter wrote to me and told me the news. At this point, you were in my tummy, and it clicked. I knew right away that you were going to be named Even. I knew that you would carry on the spirit of this kind man, one who was welcoming, and warm. I knew that you would give someone a home one day.” _

_ “How do you know that?” Even had gasped, his brain spinning. _

_ “I just know, baby,” she said, smiling down at him with warm eyes. “Now get some rest, it’s late.” _

_ She’d kissed Even’s forehead and turned out the light, giving her son one last smile before the room was plunged into darkness. _

 

How could Even ever give someone a home when he only ever ran?

When Even was eight years old, Marie grew sick. He saw it in her pale skin and sunken eyes, he saw it in his father’s gaze, which only ever grew more desperate and more hardened. It was fast, and it was sudden.

When Even was nine years old, Marie passed away. 

Even had come back from another day of the children taunting him on the playground to his father drinking whiskey at the kitchen table, his mouth set in a hard line.

“She’s dead,” he’d said with a humourless laugh, swinging back another shot of liquor. “She’s never coming back.”

“Papa?” Even had asked, curiously, unable to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“She’s fucking dead, Even!” Ernst yelled, slamming the whiskey down on the table, the liquid spilling over his fingertips. “The world has gone to shit and my wife is dead-”

Even didn’t stay long enough to hear his father yell. He ran in the same direction that he’d come, until he broke the path, running into the nearby forest. He ran until he physically could not anymore. He ran until his feet were blistered and his lungs felt as if they would bounce out of his chest. He ran until he collapsed on the forest floor, breathing in the smell of pine needles and dirt. From there, he allowed himself to cry.

From that day forward, his father never called him “Even” again. Instead, he chose to call him Erich, his middle name, which sounded much more German. Honestly, Even believed it had less to do with the fact that his name was Norwegian, and more due to the fact that Even reminded his father of his mother. After all, he was practically her spitting image, albeit male. 

In the few years after that, Even keeps his head low. He goes to school, allows himself quiet interactions with Sonja, the one person who only ever talk to him. She is soft, quiet, and never asks questions when Even just wants to draw in silence. He keeps his head low when he hears his father begin to talk about the new government, or when Martin begins rambling about “Pure Aryan’s”. 

Sometimes, Even wants to fly instead of run. He wants to feel the wind singing in his ears, he wants to feel the cool breeze through his hair. There is something so incredibly freeing about flying, something that running could never provide. Running has an expiration date. Eventually, he has to stop, whether it be because the blisters are too painful, or because his body is too exhausted. When birds fly, they do it with grace. When Even runs, it’s clunky. His long legs thud on the pavement, and his knees take the impact of the harsh ground beneath him. 

Sometimes, the urge to fly is so strong that Even will find himself sat in high window sills. If he is at school, Sonja will usually find him, dangling precariously over the ledge of the open window. She’ll coax him down with gentle words and even gentler fingers on his shoulders, pulling him back into safety. He’ll go easily, of course, because she is the only thing keeping him from flying away.

The urge to escape becomes even stronger when Martin joins the Hitler youth in 1935. 

Even can’t say that he is particularly surprised, after all, Martin has been talking nonsense throughout their entire childhood. However, when Martin takes Even to hear some politicians speak, about Hitler and about how the country needs to be “cleansed”, Even can’t take it anymore.

“I just don’t understand what they’re going on about,” Even complains that night as he and Martin are walking home.

“What’s there to not understand?” Martin wonders, his voice harsh. “The country has gone in the shithole, Hitler is going to fix it.”

“Maybe,” Even allows, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not talking about the economy though. Why does he feel the need to  _ ‘clean up the country’? _ There’s nothing wrong with Jewish people.”Martin stops in his tracks, his gaze fixed dangerously fixed on Even. Even immediately regrets opening his mouth.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Eva,” Martin mocks, the old childhood nickname slipping from his lips easily. “You’re part of the problem if you really think that.”

“Nevermind,” Even appeases, holding his hands up as a gesture of peace. “Forget it, you’re right.”

“You really don’t believe that though, do you?” Martin sneers, taking a step forward. Even takes a step back.  _ “Bist du ein Judenbegünstiger, oder was? _ I knew it, you were always weak, always crying for Mamma to come save you. Guess what, Erich? She’s not here anymore, she can’t save you. So either man up and join me here, or go to hell like the Jews you’re so fond of.”

Even feels his heart drop into his stomach. He imagines his mother, imagines how disappointed she must be in him. He imagines her scolding him, calling him a hypocrite. After all, his only friend is Jewish.

He imagines Sonja and her family, taken away by the Government. And then, he gets angry.

“You know what?” Even laughs humorlessly, his hands curling into fists. “I’ve put up with your bullshit enough already. Sorry that I don’t think that people should go to hell for something that they can’t control. Sorry that I don’t think that people should die for their religion!”

Even breathes in the cool air harshly, his chest heaving from the release of pressure of air from his lungs. His cheeks burn a harsh red, whether it be from the cold or from the blood rushing to his cheeks, Even isn’t sure.

He supposes he should’ve seen the punch coming before it happens.

Suddenly, however, Even is on the ground. His ears are ringing, and he can barely feel the harsh scrape of the pavement against his nose before he is turned onto his back.

Martin straddles him, heavy knees pinning Even’s hands down on either side of his body so that he cannot fight back. The second punch doesn’t come as much of a surprise, especially since Even is already numb.

He doesn’t feel the blow after blow. Instead, he imagines himself melting into the frozen pavement, becoming one with the cobblestones and the dirt. Even thinks that is much better alternative. Although Even physically cannot run, his mind runs anyways, comes up with much better realties than his own.

That night before he falls asleep, he finally begins to feel the pain. He washes his cuts and bruises anyways despite the stinging, scrubs with the washcloth a little bit harder than necessary. If they take a little bit longer to heal, Even doesn’t even care.

He falls asleep in a painful haze, and dreams of nothing.

  
  


A couple of years later, Even wakes up to frantic knocks on his window. He’s glad for the fact that he and Martin no longer share a bedroom like they did in their childhood, because Even knows just how angry his brother can get.

Even stumbles out of bed, bleary eyes and hair mussed, and stops in front of his window. He peers through the glass, and his heart skips a beat. Without hesitation, he opens his window.

“Sonja,” Even whispers, motioning for her to come through quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers back as she grabs onto Even’s arms in order to pull herself over the window sill. Even tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach at the touch of her soft fingertips.“I know it’s risky, but I need to talk to you.”

“You  _ know  _ what my brother would do if he saw you here,” Even says, steadying Sonja as she hops onto the ground once more. “He’d-”

“I know, Even,” Sonja says, her voice much more hurried than usual. “Believe me, I had nowhere else to go.”

“What do you mean?” Even asks, and it’s only then in the reflection of the moonlight on Sonja’s beautiful skin does he see the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“They took them,” she whispers, her voice cracking, her fingers digging into Even’s bare arms. “They’re gone, said something about some sort of camp.”

“They took who?” Even whispers back frantically, his heart pounding in his chest.

“My family,” Sonja chokes out, shaking her head minutely. “They’ve taken my family away, they said that they were going to a better place, or something. I hid until they left and then I ran right here.”

“Who took them?” Even asks, but deep down, he already knows the answer.

“SS officers,” she answers, her eyes wide and terrified. “They almost got me too, but I hid well enough.”

“Sonja…” Even trails off, reaching up to brush the tears from her cheeks lightly with his finger tips.

Sonja turns her head into the touch, letting out a choked sob, her chest heaving under Even’s fingers. She is beautiful, even when she is crying. She is strong, even though she has been beaten down. She is human, despite what the government says. She is human, and Even loves her.

“You can stay here,” Even says, his voice soft and soothing despite the slight rasp in the back of his throat. “Out in the barn, there’s a loose wallboard there that no one else knows about. I know it’ll be cold but, it’s risky enough having you here right under my fathers’ nose-”

Before Even can finish, Sonja collides with him, throwing her arms around his shoulders, standing on the tips of her toes to accommodate with Even’s height. Even’s heart pounds in his chest, whether it be from nervousness or the adrenaline, he isn’t sure. Either way, he wraps his own arms around Sonja’s waist and breathes her in. He breathes in the slight scent of sweat, but more importantly, her warmth. He basks in it, allows her soft radiance to fill him up.

_ “Danke schön,” _ she whispers shakily, turning her head so that the tip of her nose brushes against Even’s neck. “Thank you.”

_ “Bitteschön, mein Schatz,”  _ Even whispers back, brushing his lips ever so lightly against Sonja’s temple.

 

Even sneaks her bread for the next couple weeks, from his neighbour’s bakery. He knows that it’s risky, given that it’s owner, Willhelm Salbach is good friends with Martin, but he doesn’t care. Most of the time, Willhelm is upstairs working while his wife, Nora, tends to the maintenance of the bakery. When she is busy with other customers, she does not notice Even taking a few loaves of bread for Sonja.

At least,she doesn’t notice for awhile, and Even has a good system. He works on his father’s farm during the day, keeping a close eye on Sonja’s hiding place, just in case. In the evening, when Even is finished with his chores, he goes into town and does some shopping for the family. He buys the essentials, mostly ingredients for dinner and such, and then, just as dusk begins to break, he heads to the Salbach’s bakery. He usually tries to bring back a few loaves for Sonja to hold her over until the next time that Even can get her food. When he heads back home, he makes a quick trip to the stables where Sonja is located, gives her the bread, and refills her water canteen for the night.

Everything goes perhaps a little too well considering just how bad Even will end up if he is caught. As it turns out, he ends up eating his words a couple days later, when he happens to make eye contact with Nora right as he’s stealing one of her loaves of bread.

His hand is outstretched already, there’s no way that he can hide what he’s doing. He makes eye contact with Nora, watches as her blonde eyebrows raise in disbelief for a second, before relaxing.

Even isn’t entirely sure why Nora let’s him steal the bread right in front of her. He suspects that it might have something to do with the absolutely desperate glance he sends her way, shaking his head, as if motioning to keep quiet.

Nora is a smart woman, despite the fact that she chose to marry the man that she did. She knows the Becker’s, she knows that Even’s father’s farm makes more than enough money to sustain the family. Nora knows that he has no reason to steal, and that he’s bought bread from her a million times before. She knows that Even has something to hide, and she turns her head the other way.

The next day, as Even passes by the bakery, it’s Nora who calls him over.

“Erich!” she calls, motioning him over with quick hands. She whips her head around once, some of her blonde hair tumbling out from her bun as she checks to make sure that there’s no one around.

Even nods to Nora in greeting, and she does the same.

“You can have more,” she whispers, casting another nervous glance behind her, as if her husband is lurking somewhere close. “But I just need to ask one thing before I do.”

“What’s that?” Even asks just as quietly, leaning forward and bending his head downwards to match Nora’s eyeline.

“This bread,” Nora says, biting her lip in apprehension. “It’s not for you, is it?”

“I…” Even trails off, taking a deep breath and analyzing Nora’s eyes. Clear blue stares right back at him, open, honest, and terrified. “No, it’s not for me.”

“Okay,” Nora nods, taking in a shaky breath. “Okay, you can have it, I won’t tell your brother or Willhelm what you’re doing.”

“Thank you,” Even breathes as she hands him the loaf of bread. “Thank you so much.”

“Whoever they are,” Nora adds as even begins to walk away. “They must be really special.”

“I guess so,” Even concedes, turning towards Nora once more fully. “But then again, not really. She’s just human, that’s all.”

“Take care, Erich,” Nora chokes out, perhaps a little too fast.

“You too, Nora,” Even replies, giving her a small wave. With that, he turns around and walks back home.

 

When Even arrives home that night, he goes through the regular motions with practised ease, greeting Sonja with the fresh bread from the bakery. He then heads inside to get a start on dinner and greets his father, who smoke from his pipe at the kitchen counter.

“Erich,” his father greets gruffly, throat rough from tobacco.

“Hallo,” Even greets curtly, placing his grocery bag on the table. “Think I’ll make some meat and potatoes for dinner tonight.”

His father lets out a noncommittal grunt as Even gets to work chopping up the veggies and potatoes, and putting the water on to boil.

“You’ve heard about the Mandelbaum’s, right?” Ernst laughs, and Even’s heart leaps in his throat. “The family of that one girl you always liked, what’s her name again?”

“Uh, Sonja,” Even chokes out, his heart racing dangerously fast. “We went to school together.”

“Right,” Ernst replies, his voice much to condescending. “The whole family was taken to a camp, good riddance. That bloody family never worked for anything in their lives.”

“Right,” Even whispers, biting his lip hard enough that he tastes blood.

“You don’t need to worry about that though, Erich,” Ernst chuckles, blowing out another puff of smoke from his pipe. “You’re a good German man, you work hard. I’ll admit, you had me worried a bit there, but you learned the right thing in the end.”

“Thanks, dad,” Even murmurs, turning around so that he can give his father a half-hearted smile against his will. 

 

Late that night, he needs to see Sonja again. Perhaps it’s his father's words that hit much too close to home for Even. 

The thing is, he  _ knows  _ that Sonja’s family has been taken. By now, the SS officers who captured the Mandelbaum’s must know that Sonja is missing, and are surely searching for her. The reality sinks in, cold and harsh. Sonja is most likely going to be killed if she is found, and Even will surely go to prison. Prison is the last of Even’s worries, however, considering Sonja’s fate.

“Hey,” he greets her with a whisper as he knocks gently on the wallboard. “It’s me.”

“Erich?” Sonja whispers from behind the wall, her voice sleep soft.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Even sighs. “I wanted to see you, I don’t care that it’s risky.”

“What’s up?” Sonja asks, poking out her head from her hiding place as she moves the wallboard out of her way.

“I just…” Even trails off, biting his lip in apprehension. “You know that my dad knows where your family is, right?”

“I didn’t,” Sonja replies, letting out a long sigh. “What about your brother?”

“Not sure,” Even says, leaning his head against the barn door. “But I know that he’s close to Willhelm Sahlbach, who’s in training to become an SS officer.”

“Fuck,” Sonja curses, thumping her head gently against the wood. “But does he have a reason to think you’re hiding me?”

“I don’t know, to be honest.” Even reaches out with a slow hand, taking her smaller one in his before he can stop himself. “But I know that we need to get you out of here.”

“Where?” Sonja inhales sharply, caressing her thumb slowly against Even’s.

“I’m thinking Belgium, maybe France, for the moment, at least,” Even explains, ignoring the butterflies dancing in his chest. “You’ll be much safer there, and I can look into getting you a fake passport just in case you come into contact with more Nazis.”

“How’s your French?” Sonja jokes, but it falls flat when she sees the desperate look in Even’s eyes. “You aren’t coming with me?”

“I don’t know how,” Even whispers, training his gaze to the dirty floor in shame. “I can’t escape here, he won’t let me. But you can.”

“What happened to wanting to fly away?” Sonja argues, angry tears welling in her eyes. “What happened to all the times that I had to pull you from the  _ fucking _ windowsill to stop you from jumping? You begged me to let you fly, Erich, and now you’re deciding to be a coward and stay?”

“Shh,” Even whispers, looking around in the dark of the night frantically. “You have to stay quiet!”

“Erich!” Sonja pleads, tightening her grip on his hand so hard that it almost hurts. “You have to promise me that you’re going to escape too.”

“But-”

“No,” Sonja interrupts, reaching out with her other hand to place her fingers upon Even’s lips. “Let me talk. I know that in the eyes of the state I’m just some dirty Jew whocan’t think for herself, but I know better than that. This is about more than just me, Erich, and we both know it. I may be the prisoner in the eyes of the law, but I don’t think there’s ever been a time in your life where you’ve been free.”

“Sonja…” Even trails off, his heart thudding loud in his chest. “You…”

“And that’s why, Even Erich Becker,” Sonja continues, taking a small step out of her hiding place, out of her safety. “You’re coming with me. You’re coming with me because I love you, and because we both deserve to be free.”

“I love you too,” Even gasps, and without even thinking, almost as if upon instinct, he leans down and kisses her.

It feels just as right as he’d imagined it. Even though Sonja is dirty and cold, she tastes just as sweet as the strawberries that grow in the garden during the summertime. She is everything, and her lips upon Even’s give him breath, make him feel light on his toes, almost as if he could fly.

This is as close to flying as Even ever will be. And it feels fucking amazing.

“Okay,” Sonja whispers as they part, her panting breaths warm against Even’s lip. “Now find a way to get us out of here. The both of us.”

“The both of us,” Even agrees, his voice coming out as a mere whisper. His throat is unable to produce anymore speech, but it doesn’t matter. Instead, he rests his forehead upon hers, and they fly.

 

Even feels as if he is flying for the next few days afterwards. He goes about his usual chores with much more enthusiasm than usual, much to the delight and surprise of his father. He goes into town to do his regular shopping and greets the people in the streets brightly, talks to Frau Müller as he’s buying his groceries enthusiastically. In fact, he nearly chats her head off, at least, according to Frau Müllers jokes, but Even doesn’t mind.When he goes to the bakery, he shoots Nora a wide smile as she subtly slides a loaf of bread in his direction. Nora smiles back a small smile. If Even had been paying more attention, he may have seen the bruise on the side of her face. If he had been paying more attention, then he may have seen Willhelm standing not too far away from Nora, having just come down the stairs to greet his wife, his fresh SS uniform shiny and brand new.

But Even isn’t paying attention. Instead, he treads on home, stops to pick a few ripe apples off the old apple tree not too far from his farm. He takes a big bite, sitting down on a fallen log on the side of the road and enjoys the crisp autumn sun hitting his face.

After taking his pause to eat his apple and drink plenty of water from his canteen, Even stands back up and heads on back home.

On a day like today, Sonja will usually be hiding where she normally is. At this time in the year, the sun shines onto the old wood, giving off a lovely warmth for Sonja, who must surely be freezing at night. Even loves the way that the sun hits her face, the rays blending into the warmth of her pale skin, giving off a fresh glow. Even will typically give her his signature knock, and she’ll come out of her hiding place, hungry and ready for her loaf of fresh bread.

What he does not expect to see on this perfect sunny afternoon, however, is Willhelm Salbach and Even’s brother beating the shit out of a head of shiny blonde hair, much to pale to be Sonja’s; Nora.

Even drops his groceries with a thud, and his heart follows.

Martin turns when he hears the noise behind him, and he suddenly smiles, halting his kicks into Nora’s side.

“Erich!” He calls out, tapping Willhelm on the arm to grab his attention as well. “So glad that you can join us!”

“What’s going on here?” Even asks, swallowing the golf ball sized lump down his throat. His heart is pounding so hard that he reckons Martin can hear it from where he’s standing.

“Just having a little bit of fun with Nora here,” Martin sneers, nodding his head carelessly behind him to motion to the coughing lump on the ground. “She says that she has something to tell us.”

“But she only knows a little bit,” Willhelm continues, shrugging his uniformed shoulders nonchalantly. “Says that you might have some information for us? Perhaps something to do with the filthy Jew that you’ve been hiding right under our noses?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Even says, and luckily, his shaky voice doesn’t betray him too much.

“Don’t you?” Willhelm asks, and then looks to Martin, who simply shrugs.

“Little Eva is the one who spends all her time out here,” Martin says, looking around him, taking in his surroundings. “Knows all the hiding places, I reckon.”

“Are there floorboards loose somewhere?” Willhelm calls out, as he begins to stomp his boots around the barn. “Huh? You gotta be keeping them close, if you’ve been stealing from our bakery in order to feed them.”

Almost as if on cue, Nora startles awake with a wet cough, curling in on herself, her hands reaching up to protect her head. Even’s heart pangs for her.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps, whimpering as her husband draws closer to her form. “I’m so sorry, Erich.”

_ Fuck. _

“Bingo,” Martin sings, a cruel grin wide on his face. “Where are you hiding them, little brother?”

“I-” Even stutters, flinching as his brother comes much too close for comfort. 

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Martin drawls, now close enough that Even can smell his smokey breath. “What’s wrong?”

“You sneaky little shit!” Willhelm calls out from behind Even, and just like that, Even knows that he is never going to go to France, or to Belgium. “You’re keeping them in the walls, aren’t you?”

Both Even and Martin turn, Martin in excitement and Even in horror, as Willhelm begins knocking on the wooden panels of the walls.

Even closes his eyes. He imagines himself running. Better yet, he imagines himself grabbing Sonja and flying away. Away from everyone they’ve ever known, to a place where the people are a little less cruel and the world a little more forgiving. But the fact of the matter is that Even cannot fly, and he can never run far enough. He’s never been able to, and he never will.

When Even opens his eyes, Willhelm is knocking right on the loose wall where Sonja is hidden, and then, Willhelm grins like a wolf, ready to devour its prey.

“Times up, Erich,” Willhelm sneers, and with that, he wrenches the wall open and grabs the only person alive that Even has ever cared about, has ever loved.

“No!” Even cries, but it is too late. He stumbles forward, to do what, Even isn’t even sure, but before he can get anywhere, strong arms are wrapped around Even’s shoulders, much stronger than himself.

“You need to watch, little brother,” Martin says into his ear as he tightens his grip. “This is what happens when you’re on the other side; you never win.”

It truly is a shame that Martin has always been the stronger one of the Becker brothers.

“You’re the last Mandelbaum that I’ve been looking for,” Willhelm says to Sonja, his harsh voice laced with disdain. She struggles against his grip with a desperate cry, but to no avail. “You’ve put us through a lot, you little bitch.”

“Please!” Even chokes out, squirming in his brother’s grasp. He struggles even harder as Willhelm pulls his knife from his belt. “Please, Willhelm! Please!”

“I love you,” Sonja says as the knife is pressed to her throat. “I love you, Even.”

“Sonja, no!” Even cries out, unable to feel his feet on the ground, or the rough grip of his brother’s hands.

The knife does not move in slow motion, nor it is abnormally fast. It moves precisely, followed by red, sticky blood, methodically. For a second, it’s almost as if Even is watching a film happen right in front of him.

It is not a film. When Sonja falls to the ground, her body lifeless, Even falls as well.

He’ll never fly again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to scream at me all you want heh


	4. Overlord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak, Jonas, Mahdi and Magnus get their first taste of war ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took us so long but we were slightly stressed out in the past month. Noah is starting university again and Sue just moved. But today we're finally ready to present our next two chapters .... don't hate us please xD

“Damn it, if I’d known being in the airborne was all about rolling around in the dirt I would have reconsidered,” Magnus groans and drops onto his bed back first.

 

Isak chuckles, however he can’t help but agree with Magnus: They’ve just spent an afternoon training in the pouring rain, crawling under fences, climbing walls and doing shooting exercises. The entire platoon is covered in dirt from top to bottom and soaking wet. To make things worse, they have just ten minutes to change before dinner.

 

“Eh, at least we’re learning how to hide properly,” Jonas grunts, rolling his eyes. He’s peeling the dirt-stained overalls off his legs, carefully avoiding to stain his bedsheets. “It’s bullshit if you ask me.”

 

Isak nods in agreement and bends down to untie his boots. He’s pretty sure that having them roll around in dirt and making them run unreasonably long distances only serves one purpose: The officers want to break the young soldiers’ will, to make sure they will follow any order without question once they’re actually fighting in the war.

 

“They’re just testing us, to make sure we’ll never question an order they give us,” Jonas adds at that moment, as if he were reading Isak’s thoughts. “Once we get to Germany, they’ll be more reasonable, I hope.”

 

“Here’s hoping,” James says with a huffed laugh and winks at Jonas. “I still want to punch some of those officers in the face though.”

 

“Don’t be such a wuss, Walters,” Isak grunts at James, who flips him off, however not without a cheeky grin.

 

"I don't want to move, like, ever again," George groans from the other end of the room. He's lying spread-eagled on his bed, still wearing his dirty boots and jacket.

 

"You’ll have to if you want dinner," Isak tells him, sitting up and starting to peel off his overalls. He’s relieved to notice that at least his underwear stayed comparatively dry and clean.

 

With another groan, George sits up and starts undressing as well, eyeing the rest of the platoon curiously. "What do you guys think about the Lieutenant-Colonel watching us train today? Do you think we're finally going to Europe soon?"

 

Isak's heart skips a beat at his platoon member's words, and when he catches Jonas's eye, he sees that his best friend is just as taken aback. "Why do you mean?" Jonas asks carefully, making George chuckle.

 

"I mean, I know the commander usually stays cooped up in his quarters at the village, particularly on shitty days like today. So, him watching us must mean something," George explains, and the rest of the platoon nod in agreement.

 

"Shit must be going down soon, we've been here long enough," says Edward, the youngest member of the platoon. He's just nineteen, but just as eager to finally see some action as the rest of them, if not more.

 

Isak chooses not to say anything though. He hates speculations, and he's sure that if they're going to Europe soon, their commander will let them know in good time.

 

A little while later, the thirty-eight men of 2nd platoon are ready for dinner. On their way to the canteen, Magnus, Jonas and Isak run into Mahdi, a member of the British Third Parachute Brigade. The Canadian Parachute Battalion has been training with Mahdi's unit for about two weeks. He helped Jonas up after he fell and twisted his ankle during a dry jump training. And after that, the four of them quickly became friends. Mahdi's dry sense of humour instantly endeared him to Jonas and Isak, while Magnus just admires him for being so inherently different from everyone else.

 

Mahdi remarks dryly that Isak, Jonas and Magnus seem to be overly punctual and obedient all the time, since he's never seen any of them misbehave or arrive late at the canteen or anywhere else. His words make Isak, Jonas and Magnus frown at him, but before they can contradict him, Mahdi goes on.

 

"So, are all Canadians as obedient as you three or is this just a British Columbia kind of thing?" he asks, and not for the first time, his posh British accent makes Isak want to smack the man.

 

"Shut up," Jonas grumbles and pretends to throw a punch at Mahdi, grinning broadly when the other man flinches. "We just know when it's better to keep our heads down, unlike you."

 

"Right," Mahdi quips and winks at Jonas. "So, you're saying you have no trouble taking orders from Brits although your country's still basically controlled by our government?"

 

Isak rolls his eyes and groans, punching Mahdi's upper arm. "No one controls us, what are you talking about, Disi?" he says, his tone sarcastic. "Canada joined the war because we all really enjoy getting mixed up in fights we didn't start."

 

That makes everyone laugh, except for Magnus, who somehow seems to have taken an entire minute to realise Mahdi assumed he was from the same province as Isak and Jonas. "Uh, besides: I'm from Toronto, and we most definitely don't take orders from Brits, I would have you know."

 

"Good morning, Foster, nice of you to join us," Jonas jokes then, reaching out to pat Magnus's shoulder. "Don't worry, we could never forget you're a city kid, not with the way you still climb like a kitten after six months of training."

 

Magnus blushes furiously and punches Jonas's upper arm. "Fuck you, Vasquez," he grumbles, but the two men exchange a grin, and it makes Isak wonder how they have all gotten so close in less than a year.

 

They left Canada only six months after their arrival in Shilo. First, they learned the basics of military proceedings and rules, which took much more time than Isak would have expected. There were so many ranks to remember and each one had to be addressed in a certain way. Isak still struggles to remember how to react when an officer enters a room as opposed to when he meets a general or a major. Thankfully, Jonas is much better at that kind of thing and usually grunts the order to stand at attention or salute at Isak just before anyone notices.

 

The second part of training was all about getting stronger and learning how to survive in all kinds of conditions. Isak doesn't like to think back to the many marches his platoon had to endure in the biting cold of the Manitoba winter, but he can't help but admit that it helped toughen him up.

 

And then of course, there was the actual paratrooper training. Four weeks of physical training, dry 'jumps' from low altitudes and even more running and marches almost made Isak want to give up, But then, finally, the platoon completed their five test jumps and they all officially became paratroopers of the Canadian Armed Forces. Isak is sure he will never forget the moment when their company commander- Major MacLeod- pinned the tiny silver pin on the front of his uniform. When the commander congratulated him, it hit Isak that he was now a member of Canada's first airborne unit, and it filled him with immense pride and joy.

 

The moment the boys arrive in the canteen, they're delighted to notice the delicious smell of freshly made spaghetti coming from the mess. The rest of the Parachute Battalion and Parachute Brigade is already sitting at the tables, chattering excitedly, and at first, Isak thinks it's just because they don't usually get food this good. The best they've gotten so far was pumpkin soup with bread that was only half dry instead of stone hard and eating actual pasta after a day like this is almost like going to heaven for the young men.

 

But once he's sat down next to Jonas and across from Magnus and Mahdi, Isak starts hearing bits of conversation from the men around them.

 

"Yeah, the Lieutenant-Colonel himself said it."

 

"We'll probably fly to Normandy, at least I overheard Major McLeod say we'll need French dictionaries or something."

 

"This could be it."

 

Isak exchanges a worried look with the other three, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. He knows that he should be excited about finally joining the war, but right now, all he feels is fear. Fear for his own life, fear for Jonas and fear for his new-found friends in the battalion. Sure, they've trained long enough and they all know what they're in for- more or less at least. But still, Isak is sure that whatever it is they'll encounter in mainland Europe, their training probably didn't prepare them for all of it.

 

And sure enough, Isak has barely managed to clear his plate when they hear their major yell the words "Ten hut," and the entire battalion gets to their feet to stand at attention.

 

Isak has only seen Lieutenant-Colonel Bradbrook twice before: Once on the day after their arrival at the Canadian Parachute Wing in Manitoba, where he welcomed the new paratroopers in training, thanking them for volunteering for the new unit. he second time was right before they left for England, where he wished them good luck for the final few weeks of their training.

 

On both occasions, the commander of the battalion seemed kind, almost cheerful even. But now, the Lieutenant-Colonel's expression is sombre, and he barely looks up while speaking to the battalion. Plus, he's not alone: A beefy, short man with a prominent moustache is standing next to the Lieutenant-Colonel, his expression even darker.

 

"At ease, gentlemen," he begins, and clears his throat as the battalion follows the order. The room is quiet, so quiet Isak is sure he would hear a needle being dropped. Looking at the men around him, he sees the same fear and expectation he feels in everyone's eyes, and somehow, Isak finds that reassuring.

 

"I have just spoken to Brigadier Hill, the commander of the Third British Parachute Brigade." He points to the beefy man next to him and then looks around at the men in the room. "He and his men are getting ready to join the allied forces for the invasion of Normandy. It has been decided that you, the First Canadian Parachute Battalion will work together with the Brigade on June 5th for Operation Overlord." The commander clears his throat again and smiles at a few men standing close-by. "It is my honour to tell you that you will jump ahead of the brigade in order to secure the drop zone and make sure the invasion will proceed as planned."

 

The Lieutenant-Colonel keeps talking for a while after that, but Isak hardly listens anymore. All he can think is that he and his entire battalion will be the first men of the Allied Forces touching down on enemy territory.

 

"They're sending us ahead to pave the way with our dead bodies so the yanks can just waltz in there and pretend they won the war, aren't they?" Magnus mumbles under his breath once the two commanders have left. Isak just stares at him, unable to reply, but Jonas nods darkly, rolling his eyes.

 

"It sure sounds like it," he grumbles, and when he looks up, his expression makes Isak’s heart sink. He always knew that this day would come, but now that he knows what is expected of him, Isak feels like packing his things and running away.

 

“Well, let’s hope we won’t all die on the first day then,” Mahdi says with a somber look on his face, and no one says anything after that. They all walk back to their barracks in silence, waving good-bye to Mahdi when he turns left to join his comrades from the 3rd British Parachute Brigade.

 

Isak hardly sleeps a wink that night, although he knows he’ll need every minute of sleep he can get before the big day. Only three more nights until he and his comrades will jump from a plane into a country he’s never been in before and which is crawling with Germans, ready to kill them all.

 

When he finally does fall asleep, Isak has one nightmare after the other. He dreams of his mother yelling at him to come home, of dying in a rain of bullets or of drowning in the cold sea of Normandy. Of course, Isak wakes up way before the usual wake-up call, and when he looks up, he sees that the rest of the platoon is wide awake as well, looking as restless as he feels.

 

Their final two days fly by, since their officers apparently want their soldiers to be as comfortable as possible: The mess serves dessert after every meal and they hardly have to train anymore, only a few light exercises every morning and afternoon. Most of their time is spent learning their company’s plan for the invasion by heart. Isak, Jonas and Magnus are all a part of C Company, and by the end of the second day, the entire battalion can recite their orders in their sleep.

 

“C Company is to secure the south east corner of the drop zone, destroy the enemy headquarters, destroy the radio station at Varaville and blow the bridge over the Divette stream in Varaville. The company will then join the rest of the battalion at the Le Mesnil crossroads,” Magnus lists their company’s orders on their last night, sitting upright on his bed. He looks as terrified as Isak feels, but like everyone else, he tries to cover it with humour.

 

“HA, I got it,” Magnus calls out and gets to his feet, holding up his palm with a broad grin.

 

Jonas obliges and slaps his palm to Magnus’s, winking at him. “Do you also know the map by heart? It won’t help much if you know we have to destroy the radio station at Varaville if you have no idea how to get there.”

 

Magnus gives Jonas an offended look. “Seriously, Vasquez? We’ve been over this a hundred times: The map is burned to the inside of my forehead, I’ll probably not even forget if I no  longer remember my own name.”

 

The rest of the platoon chuckles at that, nodding in agreement. “Tell me about it, I feel like I could do guided tours in that godforsaken village and its surroundings without ever having been there,” George grumbles as he unties his boots. “If it wasn’t for the damn Krauts polluting it, I think I might actually like the place.”

 

Isak nods darkly, exchanging a knowing look with Jonas. They don’t have to speak to know what the other thinks. Jonas’s thoughts are surely with Eva, whose last words to her husband were to ‘better come back home in one piece’, as she kissed him goodbye. The memory makes Isak smile. He’s sure Eva chose her words carefully, knowing that Jonas can’t promise her he’ll come back alive, but there is at least a chance he might come home in one piece- alive or not.

 

Isak however just thinks of his Mom, hoping she’s not worrying about him too much. He also hopes his father is at least not being an asshole to Mamma and Eva and staying out of their way. That hope isn’t entirely unfounded, since Isak’s father actually got out of bed the day Isak and Jonas left the house. He hugged them both and told them he was proud of them, and when the two young men walked away, Isak was surprised to see his father standing in the doorway with his arms slung around Eva and Mamma. In that moment, Isak felt betrayed, wondering why his father hadn’t pulled himself together before if it was apparently possible. But now, the thought of his father making a bit of an effort to keep it together is comforting.

 

That night, Isak somehow manages to get some sleep, and when Major McLeod comes to wake them up the next morning, he feels better rested than he has in a while. They were allowed to sleep in until eleven in the morning, since their planes will leave in the middle of the night.

 

The entire company can’t stop talking during the day, excitedly discussing their plans for during and after the war. By dinner-time, Isak has heard at least ten different men from his platoon declare their great plans and expectations for their first taste of action.

 

George talks everyone’s ear off about how he promised his kid brother to bring back a Luger pistol and won’t leave Normandy before he gets one. James is convinced he’ll kill at least three Krauts at the same time as soon as he hits the ground, since he’s been training ‘like an animal’ for months. Ed is planning to sleep with as many French and Dutch women he can find, while Joshua has the humble ambition of just getting through the first few days without an injury.

 

Isak finds Joshua’s attitude the healthiest, although he enjoys listening to the other men’s ambitious plans as well. Anything that distracts him from the upcoming night is welcome in his mind.

 

At around seven o’clock in the evening, the company is packing up their gear as instructed into backpacks and leg bags. Isak has just finished stuffing his first aid kit into an already full back pocket of his bag when Major MacLeod steps up onto a couple of ammunition boxes and clears his throat. He doesn’t look happy, and Isak expects the worst as they all turn towards him, watching their commander expectantly.

 

“C Company, listen up,” the Major calls out, although they’re already so quiet Isak is sure he could hear a needle dropping to the floor. “Due to bad weather, the invasion has been postponed, so there will be no jump tonight.”

 

The entire company lets out a collective groan, and judging by the Major’s expression, Isak thinks that he must be every bit as disgruntled as his men. “I know, I don’t like it either,” the company commander confirms Isak’s hunch right then, stepping from one foot to the other before clearing his throat again and standing up a little straighter. Isak knows that Major McLeod is only about two years older than himself, but he’s never really noticed it until now. The commander of C Company looks determined and strong, but in his eyes, Isak can see the same fear he feels in his own heart. And somehow, Isak finds that reassuring.

 

“The pilots can’t see enough with the fog covering the coastline, so we’ll wait another day. Please go back to your quarters to change and report for a debriefing in the canteen at twenty-one hundred hours,” the Major continues, apparently wanting to get his speech over with as soon as possible. “Company dismissed,” he adds and then steps down from the boxes, walking away as the soldiers start getting to their feet and picking up their backpacks.

 

“They could have told us that before I buried my warmest socks at the bottom of my leg bag,” Mahdi complains as he, Jonas, Magnus and Isak make their way back to the barracks. “Now I’ll have to dig them up to not freeze my darned toes off.”

 

“It would do your toes some good to get used to the cold. If we’re lucky, we get to spend the winter in France, you know,” Joshua laughs, patting Mahdi’s shoulder. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be used to horrible weather as a Brit?”

 

“I’m used to rain, not cold, genius,” Mahdi protests, however grinning back at Joshua who holds up both hands in defeat.

 

“Alright, sorry I asked.”

 

The next twenty-four hours pass in a blur of little sleep, dry bread, funny tasting cheese and horrible coffee to last them for the entire day- the mess didn’t plan ahead for a postponing of the invasion- and mostly a lot of waiting around.

 

By the time it’s nine o’clock in the evening and Major MacLeod orders them to get into several armoured trucks, Isak is almost relieved they finally get to leave. Sure, he’s still afraid, but anything is better than sitting around all day with nothing to do but counting grass blades.

 

They get to Harwell airport soon after that, and Isak suddenly feels adrenaline rushing through his veins at the sight of the pathfinders that will carry C Company to Normandy.

 

Still, once Joshua, their non-commissioned officer, orders second platoon to stand in line to board their plane, Isak’s knees are shaking. It takes about five minutes until everyone is on board, and the pilot wastes no time heading to the runway. The fifty-one members of 2nd Platoon don’t talk as soon as the plane takes off, since it’s too loud for anyone to be heard anyway. They don’t really look at each other either, each man lost in thought and concentration.

 

When they’re ordered to get to their feet and hook up their parachutes to the line, Isak exchanges a long look with Jonas. His best friend looks worried, but the encouraging nod he gives Isak helps to calm Isak’s nerves a bit. They’ll be fine.

 

Isak is fourth in line to jump out of the plane. He leaps forward without hesitation, but just as he looks up to check if his chute opened properly, there’s a loud ripping sound and his legbag flies away. Isak curses loudly, but he’s somehow relieved to notice that he can move much easier without the extra weight. Sure, the bag contains an extra rifle and some other equipment he might need later, but he’s generally just glad he won’t have to walk like a cripple once on the ground.

 

Somehow, Isak finds it strangely comforting that he can’t really see the ground underneath him. During the test jumps, he was worried sick that his chute would somehow not work and he’d have to watch as the ground approached until he crashed. Now, there is only darkness, and the quiet fluttering of his chute and those of his colleagues is almost peaceful.

 

However, Isak has barely been in the air for two minutes when he hears the first loud bang coming from underneath him. There’s a loud screeching noise and when Isak looks up, he sees the dark shadow of the plane he just jumped out of take a sharp turn to the right to evade what looks like a fireball headed towards it.

 

Forcing himself not to panic, Isak steers his chute sideways, hoping to get out of range for whatever gun is firing in his direction. He tries to look out for the Eureka transponder his platoon leader Joshua threw out of the hatch before jumping, but he can’t see it anywhere. Luckily, he’s already pretty close to the ground though, and the anti-aircraft fire seems to come from a place far enough away for him to not be hit. Isak doesn’t find the transponder though, so he has no idea where exactly he is when he lands. He’s in the middle of a field apparently, and when he spots a small forest at the edge of it, he doesn’t hesitate before making a beeline for it.

 

Once he’s ducked into a thick bush, Isak takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. It’s relatively quiet around him, but he can hear the fire from the anti-aircraft guns in the distance, and it makes him sick to think about what this means. Not only does he have no idea where he is and where he’s supposed to go, but it’s also very possible that many of his fellow soldiers won’t reach the ground alive.

 

The thought is terrifying, but somehow, Isak manages to focus. With another deep breath, he opens his eyes again and turns around, towards the field he just came from. To his great relief, he sees another two soldiers coming towards him. But there is no one else around, which is worrying, particularly considering the fact that there is still heavy artillery fire coming from somewhere not too far away.

 

Just to be sure, Isak doesn’t move out of the bush, but waits for the soldiers to be within earshot before saying “Flash” in a loud whisper.

 

“Thunder,” replies one of the soldiers instantly, and Isak sticks his arm out of the bush to indicate where he’s sitting. Once the two men reach him, Isak breathes a quiet sigh of relief: It’s Major McLeod, the commander of C Company, and his runner, private Pete Bismutka.

 

“Is no one else with you, Private Whitman?” the commander grumbles, and Isak shakes his head, pointing to the sky that is now being lit up with balls of fire from the anti-aircraft guns.

 

“No Sir. I landed right after the artillery fire started. The transponder wasn’t working and I had to do a detour to avoid being shot.” he explains and the Major nods darkly before crawling past Isak to peek out of the thicket on the other side. Pete nods at Isak with a stressed expression, and Isak tries to smile at him, wondering what he and the commander went through on their way here.

 

“The Germans must have known we were coming,” the Major whispers then, making Isak’s heartbeat speed up. That could mean that the entire invasion would fail. If the German army knew exactly what the Allied Forces were planning, they were doomed.

 

Swallowing his fear, Isak clears his throat and follows his commander to peek out of the thicket as well. He sees a small road and behind it, Isak spots what looks like a stream, and suddenly, he has an inkling of where they are.

 

“Is this the Divette, Sir?” he asks hesitantly. Only now does it hit him that he has no idea how to behave around his Company’s commander while in the field. But somehow, Major MacLeod doesn’t seem to mind how Isak addresses him.

 

“It must be. It’s too small to be the Dives, and there’s no other river anywhere around our drop zone.” He grins briefly at Isak and Pete before pointing to the river. “This means we’re not far away from where we have to be. However, we do need some more people to secure the drop zone.”

 

Isak nods and then thinks for a moment, trying to figure out where they should look for other Company members first. But before he can come up with an idea, he hears a sound from the other side of the river.

 

“Flash,” someone hisses, and the commander quickly replies with “Thunder” again. No less than seven soldiers poke their heads out of the thicket at that. Isak breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of Joshua- his platoon leader- James and Elliot from second platoon, as well as four more guys he is pretty sure are from 3rd Platoon.

 

The seven soldiers quickly look left and right before crossing the river and joining Isak and the Major in their bush. “Good to see you, Sir,” whispers Joshua, saluting their commander and nodding at Isak and Pete, before turning around to point at the six men behind him. “I found those men scattered all over the drop zone. The pathfinders had to fly higher than planned because of the artillery fire and I think most of the Eureka transponders were damaged on their way down.”

 

Joshua is mumbling, as always when he’s nervous, but Isak can’t help but respect that he has apparently figured all this out in the short time since he landed. The Major looks impressed as well, nodding slowly and briefly patting Joshua on the back.

 

“Good work, Staff Sergeant Buchanan.” He turns around to the six men behind Joshua with a worried look on his face. “Among the ten of us, which parts of the drop zone did we manage to secure?” the Major goes on then, looking around at the group.

 

“We secured the northeast corner from where we landed until here,” Joshua replies instantly, hardly whispering anymore. “The Germans seem to be focussing their attention on our planes, at least for now. We didn’t find anything.”

 

“Excellent, Sergeant,” the major replies in a low whisper, briefly pressing a finger to his lips to remind Joshua they have to be quiet. “I suggest we move south to the southeast corner and then west, maybe we’ll find some more people on the way.”

 

Joshua nods nervously and turns around to his men, as if to check everyone is still there. “Sounds good, Sir,” he whispers then, and if the situation was a different one, Isak might have laughed at his flustered expression.

 

The Major merely nods and looks at all eight men sitting in the bushes around him before turning and parting the thicket to peer out onto the field he and Isak landed on. It’s still relatively quiet, thankfully. It seems Joshua is right about the Germans only firing into the sky so far, but Isak guesses that they will advance on the ground soon. Hopefully, all Allied paratroopers will have landed by then…

 

Following the small road along the Divette stream, the group soon encounters six more soldiers on their way to the southeast corner of the drop zone. To Isak’s great relief, one of them is Magnus, cowering behind a group of trees together with two guys from 1st Platoon. The two men don’t really have an opportunity to talk, but Isak does exchange a relieved smile with Magnus, already feeling much better. Magnus is also quick to answer Isak’s questioning look with a shake of his head, indicating that he has no idea where Jonas is.

 

Luckily, the southeast corner of the drop zone is just as quiet as the field Isak landed on, and he’s wondering if the Germans really only prepared for aircraft defense. It’s not like he’s complaining, but it’s almost too good to be true that they haven’t encountered any enemy troops yet.

 

They pass the village of Petitville, which even from afar looks like it’s crawling with German soldiers. Isak is almost sure he even sees anti-aircraft fire coming from there, but he doesn’t have time to check. Soon, the group passes the northeast corner of the drop zone, still without encountering anything else than grass, trees and bushes, and Isak catches himself feeling slightly bored. But not for long.

 

They’re not far away from the rendez-vous point when it starts.

 

At first, Isak thinks it’s just one of the planes dropping paratroopers flying too low, but then the field next to the group goes up in flames. The Major whirls around, his face white as a sheet in the blazing light, and it takes him a long moment to get a grip on himself. He yells at the soldiers to take cover, and they all start running at the same time, cowering behind bushes near the Divette stream as more and more planes fly over the field next to them, dropping bombs.

 

Isak hears Magnus cursing that they’re being attacked by their own bombers because of the confusion caused by the unexpected German artillery fire. “I bet those are the Lancasters headed for the Merville battery, for fuck’s sake! They’re at least five klicks off!”

 

If they weren’t under attack right now, Isak would be impressed by Magnus’s ability to remember planned manoeuvres of other units, but he’s busy making sure he won’t go up in flames. His ears are ringing from the terrible noise and he catches himself thinking that it would be terribly ironic if he and Magnus died in a bombing caused by their own army.

 

But then, the planes turn away again, and Isak wonders if they’ve even realised their mistake, but it doesn’t matter: The men around Isak all look shocked and unable to move a muscle, and he doesn’t feel any better.

 

Only Magnus is still cursing, shaking his fist at the sky as if the pilots could hear him. “You fucking idiots are bombing your own men, get out of here already, stupid fucks,” he yells, and only when Isak pulls him back down by the shoulders and shushes him loudly does he realise he should probably be quiet.

 

“Well, at least we can be sure that no German guns are hiding out in the drop zone,” says Major McLeod after a while, his voice drooling as if he was drunk. He clears his throat and then turns to his men. He looks as shocked as Isak feels, which is oddly comforting, although he knows it’s not helping.

 

After a few more minutes, the group finally starts to move again, however much slower than before. They reach the rendez-vous point- which isn’t far away from where Isak landed-, about five minutes later, all sixteen of them looking and feeling completely exhausted and shocked.

 

The Major orders Joshua and 1st Platoon’s non-commissioned officer, Frank Smith to join him while the group hides behind a barn of a farm-house not far from the Divette stream. Isak finds Magnus crouching next to Elliot and James and decides to use the opportunity to ask him what happened to him and Jonas.

 

“We almost got hit by artillery fire,” Magnus tells him, and Isak feels his heart sink. What if Jonas actually got hit and Magnus didn’t see it? “So we had do steer our chutes away from the drop zone, which is why we landed at least three klicks too far north. I saw Jonas until about a minute before we landed, because my chute was acting up so I was busy trying to rein it in. And when I got to the ground, Jonas was nowhere to be seen.”

 

“Fuck,” Isak lets out and bites his lower lip. “Do you think…”

 

“No, I’m sure he’s okay, man,” Magnus interrupts, patting Isak’s shoulder. I would have heard it if he’d been hit. He probably just got lost, you know how useless Jonas is with a map.”

 

Isak huffs out a soundless laugh and smiles hesitantly at Magnus. “Yeah, right,” he mumbles then, and he can tell that Magnus hopes that he’s right as much as Isak does.

 

They don’t have time to dwell on Jonas’s fate though, because Major MacLeod turns around to them and puts up his hand to ask for their attention.

 

“C Company listen up,” he murmurs, clearing his throat. “We’re sixteen men at this point, and we can’t wait any longer since we have to take the enemy headquarters at Varaville before midday.”

 

The fifteen soldiers exchange fearful, confused looks at that, but no one dares speak up of course. The Major however seems to feel the uneasiness of his men and gives the group an encouraging look before going on. “I don’t like the idea anymore than you do, but I’m confident we can reach our objectives in time.” He takes a deep breath and then goes on. “It’s 0030 hours now, and the massive drop on this drop zone is supposed to start in about thirty-five minutes. So we will take out the defense positions of the enemy close-by to make sure our troops will be able to land as planned.”

 

Isak exchanges a worried look with Magnus at that, but before anyone can ask how that will work, the Major goes on. “As of now, we have one PIAT gun, three Sten guns, eight rifles, and my pistol, which isn’t much, but it’ll have to do.”

 

For a moment, the group is silent. As much as Isak hates the idea of heading towards the German defense position with only minor equipment and way too few men, he agrees that the drop zone should be safe for the rest of the Battalion. Also, he trusts his commander, and although he’s still worried sick about Jonas, he’s glad that Magnus is here at least.

 

“Alright, gentlemen, let’s get to work,” the Major says then, getting to his feet. He starts walking along the Divette stream, and the fifteen men from second and third platoon fall into step behind him immediately. They carefully advance along the river, and much sooner than Isak expected, the village of Varaville comes into view. They saw it briefly while securing the drop zone, but only now does Isak notice the rather large castle sitting on a small hill behind it. Even from where they are now, it’s easy to see that the Germans have set up heavy defenses there: A long line of torches lights up the street leading to the castle, and Isak is almost sure he can spot at least three snipers on the roof, as well as several armoured trucks outside the walls, surely filled with ammunition and guns.

 

On their way to the village, the group encounters Private Rudko from 1st Platoon leading a group of five badly shocked riflemen. Luckily, they have their equipment with them, a fact that improves Major McLeod’s mood significantly.

 

The group makes their way through the village of Varaville undetected, sneaking from backyard to backyard, and only ten minutes later, they arrive at the gatehouse outside the castle. It’s a massive, yellow brick building, overlooking the German defense position, which consists of a long trench protected by earth and concrete, with machine gun bays at fixed intervals. At both ends of the trench, there is a bunker, and Isak wonders how on earth their small band is going to go about defeating the Germans here.

 

The Major orders a part of the group to search the gate house in pairs. Isak and  Magnus go up to the first floor and find two rooms with six double bunk beds each in them. They all look recently slept in, and Isak is pretty sure that the soldiers left their rooms in a hurry, most likely when the bombing started.

 

Back downstairs, Isak reports what they’ve seen and apparently, the other two teams found four more rooms just like the ones he and Magnus searched, and from that, Major McLeod deduces that ninety-six men must be manning the defensive position.

 

The Major places twelve men- among them Isak and Magnus- in a shallow ditch close-by the gate house with the PIAT gun and the rest of the men set up around the building. Private Rudko and one of his men guard the door to the house as the Major takes Private Thompson from third platoon with him to the second floor, from where they can observe the enemy position.

 

However, they haven’t even begun firing at the enemy, when they hear a loud crash and the two men guarding the door are hit with what looks like bits of plaster and bricks. Isak realises in that instant that they must be up against a heavy gun, hidden out of sight, and his heart sinks at the thought.

 

While trying to fire at the men hidden in the trenches, Isak hears Major McLeod call Elliot upstairs with his PIAT gun. Isak and Magnus have just a second to wish Elliot good luck before he disappears into the gate house, carrying his gun.

 

The men in the ditch keep firing at the Germans, and Isak catches himself counting seconds until Elliot will finally take out that damn machine gun. When they hear the sound of Elliot’s PIAT going off, Isak instantly knows he missed: He hears the sound of an explosion, but no cracking of concrete and no sound indicating that the Germans had been hit. And before Elliot can fire again, the heavy gun from the German position fires back.

 

There is a huge bang, and when Isak turns to look up at the gate house, he sees that the explosion has torn off half the wall of the second floor room his fellow men are in. For a moment, Isak stupidly hopes that no one was hit, but then he hears several men screaming out in pain and knows that they’re in big trouble.

 

But before Isak can worry about how many men they may have just lost, he sees Captain Hanson from 3rd Platoon arrive with eight more men. Joshua yells at him that their men on the second floor of the building need help, so Hanson sends up his medic, looking confused and worried.

 

He then orders the men positioned around the gate house to keep firing at the Germans, to make sure they stay in their bunkers and to keep them from realising that they outnumber the Canadians. Hanson also sends two men off to Le Mesnil, where he hopes the 17mm field gun has arrived.

 

While they’re waiting for the two men to come back with an extra gun, Isak and his comrades can’t do much more than keep firing at the Germans every time one of them raises their heads from the bunkers. At one point, Isak wonders if Elliot and the Major survived. But then he sees the third platoon medic and three fellow soldiers carry Major McLeod’s runner and another soldier Isak doesn’t know out of the gate house. The two of them look heavily wounded, but alive, and when Captain Hanson whispers something into the medic’s ear and the man just shakes his head, Isak knows that his commander and everyone else who was on the second floor is dead.

 

A little while later, six more Canadian men come in from the village, and they reach the ditch just when the German gun starts firing again. It’s a miracle that nobody gets killed in that moment, and for some reason, that incident gives Isak hope that maybe, luck is on their side after all.

 

One of the new arrivals luckily has a two-inch mortar gun with him, but it’s still not enough against the Germans’ heavy gun. For the next few hours, Isak’s Company can’t do much more than fire at Germans who stick their heads out of their ditches and duck down whenever the German gun rakes the roadway.

 

They get a short break at about 0830 hours, when the Germans raise a white flag and send an emissary to Captain Hanson, asking for permission to send out their wounded. Apparently, the Germans don’t have a medic in their bunker, and of course Hanson allows them to pass.

 

The Germans send out a group of seven soldiers: Two uninjured men pushing a cart with three wounded soldiers lying on it and three more walking wounded. Isak is glad for the little reprieve and when the group reaches the shallow ditch they’re hiding in, he turns to tell Magnus he’s glad they hit at least a few of their enemies.

 

But he’s barely opened his mouth when the Germans open fire on their own men. For a second, Isak can only stare and watch as the heavy gun mows down the three walking wounded. The Canadians duck down into their ditch again, out of the gun’s reach, and Isak wonders what the hell is going on now. When the gunfire stops, he carefully looks up again, surprised to see that two of the German soldiers are still standing there. It’s the two uninjured soldiers who were pushing the cart. The two of them remain unscathed, and after a few seconds, they run off towards the aid station at the end of the road.

 

Isak and his comrades look up to Captain Hanson with stunned looks on their faces, wondering what the hell that was all about. Luckily, none of them got hit, and just a moment later, the Canadians get another, much more pleasant surprise: A loud explosion coming from South-East lets them known that the bridge over the Divette has been blown up.

 

“One less objective to go, yes!” Magnus calls out and slaps his hand to Isak’s.

 

“Don’t get too excited,” Isak huffs out, but he can’t help but smile a little. Knowing that one of their objectives is taken care of is good, and with the bridge blown-up, it will be significantly harder for German tanks to reach the village. The men around them are cheering, and for a moment, it almost feels like they’ve already won.

 

But then the German fire resumes, and the Canadians duck back into their ditch to return fire.

 

Shortly after 1000 hours, Isak notices some Corporal from 3rd Platoon- Isak is almost sure his name is Hartigan- gathering up a few mortar bombs together with his mortar. Without saying a word, he then moves past Isak and Magnus with a determined look on his face. Almost every soldier lying in the ditch watches him set up the mortar gun in direction of the German heavy gun.

Magnus taps Isak on the shoulder, but when Isak turns to look at him, Magnus is still staring at the corporal, his mouth half-open.

 

“Please let him hit them right where it hurts, I am so done lying in this ditch,” he murmurs, and Isak almost laughs. Sure, his legs and shoulders hurt a lot from crawling around in the dirt for hours while trying to shoot at their enemies without getting shot himself. But Magnus’s humour in the face of danger is still astounding.

 

Corporal Hartigan sets up the mortar gun in a matter of seconds and then fires four mortar bombs, one after the other and then adds a few smoke bombs for good measure. Then, he quickly crawls back into the ditch, and every soldier behind him ducks down, expecting the Germans to fire back at any second.

 

But that returning fire never comes. For a few minutes, C Company waits with bated breath for what will happen next.

 

And then, a white flag emerges from the bunker Corporal Hartigan just fired into, and the entire Company erupts in cheers. The only remaining medic at the site, Corporal Johnny Hall, accepts the surrender of the German forces.

 

It takes Isak and Magnus a while to realise that the battle is really over. It’s just too hard to believe at first. But when the first German soldiers emerge from the bunker with their hands crossed behind their heads, they slowly get to their feet and join their comrades at the edge of the ditch. Isak counts the men as they walk past towards Corporal Hall and a few men of his platoon who help him tie the prisoners’ hands together.

 

“Forty-three? That’s it?” Isak says, turning to Magnus, who nods slowly at him.

 

“I had no idea we killed so many,” Magnus murmurs thoughtfully, and suddenly, Isak doesn’t feel so proud anymore. He’s aware that the Germans also killed not just a few Canadians, but the fact that he, Isak Daniel Whitman has taken more than just one life in less than a day makes him feel- uneasy, to say the least.

 

Soon, C Company gets on their way to the Le Mesnil crossroads, where the rest of the battalion is waiting for them. On the way there, they encounter a few German infantry soldiers firing at them from concealed positions. After the battle they’ve just been through, those attacks are more like nuisances to Captain Hanson’s men though. Each time they’re shot at, the commander sends off two sections of three men each to take care of the attackers. Luckily, Isak and Magnus aren’t among the sections being sent off to kill the Germans, and by the time C Company reaches the camp at the Le Mesnil crossroads, they both feel ready to sleep for days.

 

However, there is one last surprise waiting for Isak and Magnus at the camp.

 

They’ve just passed the checkpoint at the entrance of the camp when Isak spots a familiar head of curly dark hair in front of one of the tents.

 

“Jonas?” Isak calls out before he can stop himself. Magnus whirls around and runs towards Jonas before Isak, almost stumbling over his own feet.

 

“Jonas Vasquez, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Magnus yells and throws both arms around Jonas, who hugs him back awkwardly, grinning at Isak over Magnus’s shoulder.

 

When Magnus finally lets go of Jonas, Isak hugs his brother and best friend as well, maybe a little tighter than usual. He fights the tears welling up behind his eyes as he buries his face at Jonas’s shoulder, feeling all the tension of his first day in combat fall off of him like a heavy coat.

 

“Damn it, it’s good to see you,” Isak gets out, and if his voice is shaking slightly, no one but Jonas has to know.

 

“Same,” Jonas replies with a slight chuckle, hugging Isak so tightly he almost squeezes all air out of Isak’s lungs. But Isak doesn’t care. He clings to Jonas as if for dear life. Only now does it fully hit him that he lost several comrades and his commander today. He’ll never again hear Elliot’s stupid jokes about country kids, and he wonders if C Company can ever get a leader as smart and collected as Major McLeod. Still, for now, Isak is just fucking glad to still have Jonas by his side.He made it through the first day of war, and the man who’s been his brother ever since he can think is still alive and well. For now, that’s all that matters.

 

Magnus, Jonas and Isak get assigned to the same tent after a modest dinner, and of course, Isak and Magnus want to know exactly what happened to Jonas.

 

“I landed way too far away from the drop zone, but luckily, I wasn’t the only one. Lieutenant McGowan from 4th Platoon landed not far away from me, and we soon found some other men who also missed the drop zone by a few hundred metres,” Jonas begins, taking off his dirt-covered boots with a relieved sigh.

 

“We made our way towards Varaville, but we were only halfway there when we encountered two German infantry sections and opened fire on them. The battle only lasted for about an hour, and then the Germans surrendered to us.” There is a bit of pride in Jonas’s voice, but Isak can see the same fear in his best friend’s eyes that he himself has in his heart. It’s the fear that whatever happens, none of them will be the same after this war is over, because they’ve taken lives.

 

“We then set up a sort-of headquarters in a churchyard and I was assigned guard duty on top of the church tower. From there, we saw that the Germans were approaching in a bomb crater not far away, but luckily the Lieutenant sent out a fire party to take them out in time.”

 

Jonas leans back on his field bed, looking up at the dark green tent roof, seemingly lost in thought. “There were a few people from the French resistance helping us, the women acting as medics while the men offered to help us fight the Germans. One Frenchman even took out three enemy snipers, he was great. Thanks to the Frenchmen’s help, we managed to hold our position until the Brits came to relieve us, and that’s how we were one of the first units who got here.”

 

Leaning up to look at Isak and Magnus, Jonas grins cheekily and points to the tent roof. “We built up most of these tents, so you can thank us for having a dry place to sleep.”

 

Isak chuckles at that, feeling proud of Jonas. “Why, thank you, brother,” he says, and Magnus lets out a snort.

 

“You want us to thank you for building a tent while we were being shot at all day?” Magnus tries to sound angry, but even if he wasn’t grinning, Isak would know that he’s just glad Jonas is okay.

 

“Eh, for all I know I took more enemy fire than you, considering you’re the biggest coward of our platoon,” Jonas fires back, making Isak laugh out loud.

 

The three men spend almost another hour teasing each other and trading stories from their first day in combat. However, they soon can’t keep their eyes open anymore, and although there are too many thoughts running through his head, Isak drifts off to an uneasy sleep.

 

On the next day, the entire Battalion moves out of the camp to join the British Third Parachute Brigade in their advance towards the Seine river. It doesn’t go as planned, of course, since the German resistance is much stronger than anticipated, and the Battalion suffers heavy losses, like the rest of the Allied Forces.

 

Almost every day, one or more men of C Company earn a nickname or a kind of reputation by either displaying a particular skill or by making a fool of themselves.

 

Jonas is soon well-known for his interest in politics. Some men start calling him ‘Comrade Vasquez’ because he expressed his respect for some aspects of communist societies.

 

Anthony Smith, a quiet young man from Regina earns the reputation of having the finest ears in the Canadian forces. The men laugh about it at first, teasing Anthony by asking if he can even sleep at all with all the flies and mosquitoes flying around. But one day, Anthony saves all their lives because he hears a tank approaching from a field, although the men are chattering loudly around him. Thanks to Anthony’s hissed warning, they have just enough time to get to cover before they’re in range of the German guns. After that, no one teases Anthony ever again.

 

Mahdi however doesn't stop reminding 2nd Platoon that without Anthony, they would all have been run over by that tank like a ‘bunch of bloody chickens’. He and Anthony become friends after that, which is why Mahdi starts spending almost as much time with the Canadians as with his own platoon.

 

Isak soon earns himself the nickname “Stumbly Whitman” because he falls over so often. One time, he even stumbles over a damn bucket lying in-between two tents, almost breaking his ankle in the process. Some of his comrades even make him a medal out of old paper and a security pin, writing the words “Stumbly Whitman” onto them in purposefully shaky handwriting. Isak actually wears it for a whole evening, which earns him the respect and affection of the entire Company.

 

Magnus manages to get shot in his ass during the second week, which confines him to an aid station for a week and earns him way too many laughs. He takes it with humour though, telling his comrades that even his soft Canadian ass is too tough for the Germans to take him out by hitting it.

 

One day in late July, about twenty men from 2nd Platoon and a few members of the 3rd British Parachute Brigade get cornered by no less than three German tiger tanks. The men are boxed in between two buildings with not nearly enough cover and no way to get reinforcements to them. Isak, Magnus and Jonas are trying to shoot as many Germans as they can, but their rifles aren't doing much damage against the enemy tanks.

 

Mahdi is also with them, and Isak is immensely grateful that the young Brit is lying next to him in the dirt behind what used to be a fountain, now reduced to a  crumbling piece of a wall. In the short time they have known him, Magnus, Jonas and Isak have seen Mahdi hit nine targets out of ten, some of them pretty far away. And now, while the group of men around him are scrambling to find cover and trying not to panic, Mahdi just lies there, his hands steady as he shoots down one German soldier after another, looking almost relaxed.

 

Isak is busy trying to hit the underbelly of the tank closest to them, but seeing Mahdi’s grin growing wider after every successful shot helps him keep his nerves under control. And just when Isak thinks that they should really get out of the way before one of the tanks runs them all over, the massive vehicle stops a few feet away from them.

 

Looking up, Isak sees three dead Germans hanging from the top of the tank and he turns around to congratulate Mahdi on his excellent skills.

 

But Mahdi isn't grinning anymore. He's kneeling next to the destroyed fountain, shaking Anthony by his shoulders. “Come on, man, look at me, darn it,” Mahdi cries, sounding desperate. A cold shiver runs down Isak’s spine at the sight of Anthony’s pale face. Blood is spilling from underneath the young man's hair, and Isak watches in horror as Mahdi tries to revive Anthony.

 

All Isak can think is that he has never seen Mahdi panic before, and it's terrifying. Mahdi's usually calm hands are shaking and he cries Anthony’s name over and over again in-between desperate sobs.

 

“Don't die on me, young Smith, please,” Mahdi begs but then, 2nd Platoon’s medic James gently removes Mahdi’s hands from Anthony’s chest.

 

“He’s gone, Disi. They shot him in the head.”

 

Isak swallows hard at the sight of Mahdi's tear-streaked face when he looks up at James. But then, the Brit’s expression darkens and he lets go of Anthony, picking up his rifle again. He turns, aims at the remaining German soldiers climbing down from the three incapacitated tanks and shoots.

 

A minute later, an almost eerie silence fills the square. No one speaks as they wait for the rest of C Company to come check on them. By the time their commander Major Hanson- he was promoted shortly after D-Day-  arrives next to the broken fountain, his entire 2nd Platoon is gathered around Anthony’s body, guarded by Mahdi, who doesn't say a word for the rest of the day.

 

Mahdi blames himself for Anthony’s death, as Isak finds out a few days later. Magnus and Jonas suggested they ask the young Brit if he wants to join them at breakfast, and to Isak's surprise, Mahdi agrees. They don't talk much until Mahdi finally says that he's sorry.

 

“What for?” Magnus asks, but before can launch into a rant about how Mahdi’s sniper skills saved all their lives, Mahdi goes on.

 

“It's my fault he's dead. That bullet was meant for me.”

 

Isak remembers seeing a German sniper in an upstairs window a few houses down from their position, and he instantly knows Mahdi’s right. If the Germans had shot Mahdi, the rest of the men trapped of that square would have been sitting ducks.

 

“We would have died if you’d gotten hit, man,” Jonas says what Isak is thinking, watching Mahdi with a mix of sadness and admiration. “Smith must have known that, he probably even tried to shoot that Kraut sniper himself.”

 

Mahdi makes a face and shakes his head. “He was too young, darn it,” he all but whispers and the desperation in his voice makes tears well up behind Isak's eyes. Anthony was only nineteen, and yet already indispensable to the platoon, particularly because of his excellent hearing. The thought that the young Saskatoon’s ears will never save their lives again scares Isak, and he wonders if the rest of the platoon realise that too.

 

“We'll have to learn to listen for sneaky Kraut tanks ourselves now. Smith would want us to, don't you think?” Magnus seems to have read Isak's thoughts. And when he looks up, Isak is glad to see a slight smile on Mahdi's lips for the first time since Anthony died.

 

“Hear hear,” the young Brit says then, nodding appreciatively at Magnus, and Jonas and Isak repeat his words, raising their canteens filled with mediocre coffee for a toast to Anthony Brixton Smith and the finest pair of ears the Canadian Army has ever had.

 

After that, Mahdi Disi becomes an honorary member of 2nd Platoon. No one ever says anything when he joins the Canadians right after breakfast and only returns to the British tents in the evening. Joshua talks to Major Hanson about it in mid August, and the next day, the Major awards Mahdi an official pin, making him the first Englishman to become a part of a Canadian Army unit. 2nd Platoon receives Mahdi like a brother, and it makes Isak proud of his countrymen. While back home, it's still forbidden for black men to serve in the military, the Parachute Battalion is proving that such discrimination is stupid and un-Canadian by making a black man an honorary member of their ranks.

 

Although, to Isak Mahdi isn't ‘the first black man in the Canadian Army.’ To him and 2nd Platoon, Mahdi Disi is simply the ‘tank sniper’ who saved their lives and refused to leave them when they lost an important man.

 

With events like this, it's no wonder that by the time the Battle of Normandy- as the officers call it- finally ends at the end of August, C Company has grown into a band of brothers who look out for each other in whichever way they can.

 

The Battalion spends a few days recovering in the North of France, before being flown back to England on September 6th 1944. They’re transported to the Bulford training camp, where they learn that they’re about to be retrained for a more offensive role in the battles to come. The Battalion has suffered a lot of losses, and of course, there are new recruits to be trained as well.

 

This time around, the hard training comes as a welcome change of pace to Isak, Magnus, Mahdi and Jonas, since at least they’re not in mortal danger for a while. They also get warm meals and can sleep in relatively comfortable beds every night, so they see no reason to complain.

 

In the middle of their training, Major Hanson officially becomes the commander of C Company, much to Isak’s satisfaction. The Major has led them well ever since they lost Major McLeod in the battle for Varaville, and the entire Company trusts him to lead them in the battles to come.

 

By the time December comes around, Isak almost dares hope that he might spend Christmas in England, far away from combat, together with Mahdi, Jonas and Magnus. But of course, that turns out to be wishful thinking only.

 

Two days before Christmas day, the Battalion gets a visit by their new commander, Lieutenant Colonel Jeff Nicklin. He took over after Lieutenant Colonel Bradbrook’s death, and Isak isn’t sure he likes him, but then again, that doesn’t really matter. The new Battalion commander informs the men that they will be dropped back into France to help the Allied Forces push back against a German advance in a region called “Ardennes.”

 

So, instead of heading back to safety in England, the Canadians spend Christmas Eve packing for what sure looks like one hell of an unpleasant task: Fighting in ice and snow isn’t exactly what Isak dreamt of when he signed up for the Parachute Battalion, but then again, he’s stopped dreaming a while ago anyway.

  
  
  



	5. Andreas

Even swings the pickaxe again, making sure to put his back into it. It lands into the frozen earth with a thump that shocks Even right down to his fingertips, making him stumble slightly.

Even doesn’t even know why he’s so weak today, because is like every other day.

Every morning for the past three years, he is woken up at four-thirty with loud, booming voices and pounding on the side of Even’s bunk. Then, he chokes down his cold breakfast with coffee and joins everyone else in working. For the past couple weeks, their work has consisted of mindless swings of a pickaxe, which has become increasingly harder due to the cold weather. Every single day, Even swears that the ground is freezing just a little bit more.

He seldom feels his fingertips anymore, nor his toes. Despite the meals, his stomach is constantly hollow, but Even knows better than to protest. At least they give him coffee. This should be giving him the energy that he needs to get through the day.

Except today, apparently. Even’s head spins as he rests his weight onto the pickaxe that is stuck on the ground. He wills his vision to stop blurring, and for the black spots to quit dancing in front of him. If he focuses hard enough, the black spots begin to take a much more familiar shape, dancing through the cold air. Then, he sees a head of short, blonde hair. She is shorter, much shorter than Even, and she is beautiful. She glides effortlessly through the dirt, unaffected by the hustle and bustle of the busy working camp. She turns her head to Even, her blue eyes shining-

“Hey you! Get back to work!”

The scene vanishes. Even is left leaning against his clunky pickaxe, the wooden handle leaving a splinter into his forearm due to the pressure. The black spots are gone. Instead, they are replaced by a commanding officer, standing right in front of Even.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, his eyes cold and harsh.

“Sorry,” Even murmurs as he wrenches his pickaxe out of the dirt. “Felt faint for a second.”

“Lunchtime isn’t for a couple hours,” the officer responds, as if that’s supposed to be any consolation.

“Yes, sir.” Even lets out a grunt as he swings the pickaxe into the dirt again.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the day.

 

“Ya know,” says his bunkmate, Andreas a couple days later as they’re settling in for the night. “I reckon’ they’re actually putting sawdust in the bread. Tasted like bark this afternoon.”

“Maybe,” Even says, shrugging his shoulders carelessly. “At least we get bread at all.”

“I guess so,” Andreas replies, folding his arms onto Even’s mattress as he looks up at him. “When I went to Paris though, the bread was wonderful. Nice, fresh, and hot. Nothing like we have here.”

“You’ve been to Paris?” Even asks, turning onto his elbow in order to face his bunkmate.

“Yeah! Before everything of course, when I was much younger. It was truly an experience.”

“I’ll bet,” Even agrees, biting his lip apprehensively. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Maybe if you ever save up enough money, then you can go,” Andreas reasons, but they both know it’s a lost cause.

“Maybe,” Even replies, however it’s more of an afterthought. He and Andreas settle in for the night. Eventually, Andreas’ snores can be heard from the bottom bunk, but Even does not sleep.

He stares at the ceiling and counts the patterns of the mould formed in between the cracks. He’s brought back to that conversation, all that time ago, with _her._

“We’ll get to France, or maybe Belgium,” Even whispers to himself, Sonja’s words echoing in his head.

_I’ll get to France._

 

The thought of France never leaves his head from that moment on. Even keeps his head low during the day, dreams about seeing the Eiffel Tower, and buying cheap bread from the bakery. He wonders if his level of French, which really isn’t all that much, will be enough to get by. He wonders if Sonja would’ve known enough French. He wonders if they could have had a good life there together.

Each night, he stays up talking to Andreas. They don’t talk about anything of great importance, but Even can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of something _bigger_ in his chest. Perhaps it’s the way that Andreas’ eyes shine in the unnatural lighting of their sleeping quarters. Perhaps it’s the way that his jaw clenches minutely when he is deep in thought, something so undeniably _male_ that Even cannot take his eyes off of. After a couple more days, Even notices the pink triangle on Andreas’ uniform. Somehow, it doesn’t really bother him.

 

_“Even,” say a voice, familiar, much softer than what Even is used to hearing on a daily basis._

_Even strains his eyes against the autumn sun, breathes in the smell of stale hay. Something tells him that there used to be horses here, but only faintly._

_“Sonja?” Even groans out, reaching up to shield his eyes from the brightness of the sun. “Is that you?”_

_“It’s me,” she says, this time, her voice much closer. “I needed to visit you.”_

_“Why now?” Even wonders, reaching down to run his fingers through the dry hay that surrounds him, and using the pressure against his palms to push himself into a sitting position._

_“Because the time is now,” Sonja says, as her pale face finally comes into view. Even gasps, because he cannot believe what is kneeling in front of him; stringy blonde hair, unfocussed eyes, her clothes tainted red with blood. The wound on her neck is no longer bright red, but a dull, dry burgundy, crusted against her skin. Nevertheless, she is beautiful._

_“You must do this for me,” she says, licking her dry lips nervously. “You must leave this place, and get yourself to France, for me.’_

_“Sonja…” Even trails off, reaching up in attempts to cup her pale face. She dodges his touch._

_“Even, don’t worry about the guards, I’ll protect you from them,” she insists, her hand reaching out to lightly hold onto Even’s. “Andreas is your way out, he’ll be protected as well, don’t worry.”_

_“Why do I need to leave now?” Even asks, tightening his fingers around Sonja’s cold hand. “Why have you chosen to speak to me now after two years?”_

_“Because,” she says, trailing off as a chunk of her rotten skin from her face falls into the hay. “Because this is your chance, Even. Take it, escape. Fly.”_

_“Fly,” Even repeats, watches as Sonja’s face begins to deteriorate. “Okay, I will. For you, my love.”_

_“My love,” Sonja repeats, smiling wide, her black teeth falling from her mouth, her hand in Even’s coming loose, skin peeling, eyes rolling into the back of her head-_

  


The next morning, after only a couple hours of sleep, Even is up and ready to work. He puts more enthusiasm into thehis swings of his pickaxe, feels the burn in his calves and thighs, and he loves it. He’s finally getting stronger.

It looks like Andreas can tell as well, because he sends Even secret smiles all day. Even finds himself smiling back, allowing himself to take in Andreas’ slightly smaller frame, and the way that his arms move as he swings the pickaxe. He truly is quite strong, despite his slender frame. He could probably get Even to France if Even asked.

That night, he does ask.

“Hey Andreas,” Even says as he bounds into the room, crouching down so that he can speak quietly. “You wanna go to France with me?”

“Huh?” Andreas asks as he sits up in his bed, his eyes wide with shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Sonja always told me that I would get to France, and I know that you want to go as well,” Even reasons, taking in a gulp of air. “You’re my ticket there! Think about it; We won’t be in this shitty place anymore, and you can get all the fresh bread that you want-”

“Erich, don’t joke around like that,” Andreas whispers, shaking his head rapidly. “You can’t just-”

“We can leave if we’re quiet enough!” Even argues, shrugging his shoulders, because honestly, this is the least of his worries. “Fuck the guards anyways, I can totally get past them, I’m way stronger.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Andreas says, reaching out and placing a hand on Even’s shoulder in attempts to get Even to sit down properly. “You really want to risk getting- fuck, I don’t even know what they’d do to us if we got caught.”

“We won’t get caught,” Even replies, because honestly, why would they ever get caught? “Their bullets can’t hurt me! Besides, they won’t even see me leaving anyways.”

“Okay,” Andreas concedes, holding his hands up; a universal gesture that he’s given up on arguing. “Can we talk about this more in the morning? I’m really tired, it’s been a long day.”

“Okay, yes, get some sleep,” Even says, now a little frustrated because he can’t quite seem to get the words out as fast as he would like. “I’ll spend tonight planning our escape.”

With that, he takes a quick look around the room, making sure that no one can see them, before planting a kiss right onto Andreas’ lips.

“Have a good sleep,” Even whispers, patting Andreas’ flushed cheek one last time before pulling away and climbing up the ladder to his own bunk.

“‘Night,” comes Andreas’ delayed reply, a little breathless. Even assumes that he must be because he is so excited to get to France again.

Even spends the rest of the night scratching layout on his bunk with his thumbnail, making sure that it stays hidden underneath the mattress. He doesn’t sleep at all that night.

 

“Okay,’ Even whispers that morning at breakfast, hiding his moving mouth underneath his mug of coffee. “So I’ve planned this all out. There are some weak spots in the fence on the west end, I reckon if we dig for a couple minutes, we can break free.”

“There are guards everywhere!” Andreas hisses, hiding his own moving mouth under his coffee mug. “There’s no way we can do this without getting caught.”

“Maybe if you were alone,” Even argues, his eyes darting to the guard sat near the head of their table. “But you’re with me. You can’t get hurt if you’re with me because I can’t get hurt.”

“How do you know that?” Andreas says, and then chuckles a little bit. “You invincible or somethin’?”

Even doesn’t reply, instead he sends a wink in Andreas’ direction, and then smiles as the other man’s face reddens.

 

“Meet me in the bathroom in five,” Even whispers to Andreas later that day as they pass by each other. “I need to talk to you.”

Andreas simply nods, and Even bounds away from him and approaches the guard on duty.

“Need the toilet,” Even murmurs, keeping his gaze on the ground in order to not draw too much attention to himself.

“Whatever,” the guard responds, jerking his head in the direction of the toilets, rolling his eyes.

Even bounds off, his eyes trained downwards but his movements quick and jerky. He doesn’t want to slow down at all, he really can’t.

If he slows down, then all of this will go to waste. Sonja will have died for nothing, honestly.

She must’ve been the one who gave Andreas the idea, otherwise how would he have known to tell Even about it? This must be from her, she must be telling Even from Heaven that he needs to get to France. This was her dying wish, was for Even to escape. And sure, maybe he can’t do it with Sonja anymore, but he sure as hell can do it with Andreas’ help.

Andreas, who honestly looks much like her anyways, with the exception of much shorter hair. However, hise mannerisms are very similar. He is slender, just like she was, and yet strong, physically and mentally. He has the same shade of blue in his eyes, ones that twinkle in the sun when he works.

Yes, he is much like Sonja. And he is special too, because he carries her last wish.

“Erich?” Comes Andreas’ voice, nothing more than a whisper that echoes throughout the latrines.

“Over here,” Even replies, bouncing on his toes as he sees Andreas come into eyesight.

“Hey,” Andreas greets, bounding over to Even, his footsteps light and quick. “Why’d you ask me to meet you, you know that it’s risky here.”

“I know, don’t worry,” Even says, waving his hand carelessly. “I just wanted to tell you that I think we should do it tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Andreas whisper-shouts, reaching out to calm Even’s moving arms. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious,” Even insists, unable to ignore the fluttering of his stomach as Andreas’ fingertips brush his bare skin. “I have everything planned out, I’ll show you! I’ve even scratched it into my bunk and everything!”

“Erich,” Andreas shakes his head, biting his lip apprehensively. “It’s not that I don’t want to get out of here, because I really do. I just- what if we get caught? They’ll probably kill us.”

“It’s a cause worth dying for,” Even replies, and then reaches out to caress Andreas’ face with gentle fingers. “You’re the one who gave this message to me, Andreas. I can’t ignore it, and neither can you. She _chose_ you, don’t you get that? She chose you to tell me her last dying wish, she’s granted us the ability to not be hurt by them or their bullets, because she believes in us. This is what we’re meant to do-”

Andreas cuts Even off with a kiss, his lips moving desperately against Even’s.

Even’s heart begins to race, a little flustered because Andreas cut him off! He was going to tell Andreas everything and-

“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?!” Shouts a voice. Even and Andreas pull apart.

Even wipes his lips, and looks at Andreas, his head tilted in confusion.

“Couple of fags, I see?” says the guard, holding his rifle in his hands menacingly.

Even shakes his head, completely bewildered. He just wanted to tell Andreas about his plans.

“No, no, I swear we’re not,” Andreas pleads, but judging by the look on the guards face, he isn’t falling for it.

“And I’m Hitler,” the guard retorts, rolling his eyes, obviously sarcastically.

“Fine,” Andreas sighs, looks once to Even, before taking in a deep breath. “It was me, I kissed Erich, he had nothing to do with it.”

“Weren’t you the one who is here forwas arrested being a faggot?” The guard questions, his words harsh. Even blinks, looking from Andreas to the guard.

“Yes,” Andreas whispers, looking down at his feet in shame.

“Anything to say for yourself?” The guard directs his question towards Even.

“Uh,” Even stutters, and in his mind, he can hear Sonja’s words. _(Get to France. Get TO FRANCEGETTOFRANCE)_ “I-”

“It’s okay, you can tell him what happened,” Andreas tells Even gently. His eyes have a strange look in them. “Tell him that I’m a filthy-”

“That’s enough!” The guard commands, reaching towards Andreas, his hand glinting with something metal, something sharp. Isn’t that-

Andreas falls to the ground, but not before the blood from his neck splatters onto Even’s face. Or is it Sonja’s blood? Even isn’t sure anymore. Isn’t it her blood that stains his hands, his neck, his everything? Is it her blood that stains his lips, enters his mouth? Is it her lifeless body that is on the ground in front of Even, twitching slightly as she takes in her last, gargled breath? Is it her blue eyes that stop twinkling in the sunlight, or her pale skin from never feeling the sun’s rays ever again, or the slightly browning, a healthy flush across her cheeks as she leans in to kiss Even, her mouth tasting of strawberries and-

“Get up,” says a gruff voice. Even hadn’t even realised that he’d sunk to the ground. “You have to get back to work.”

Even reaches up with his hand, smears the warm, sticky blood on his face even more.

Even can wash this blood off, but it will never leave his hands.

 

That night, Even leaves. He leaves his bunk behind, in nothing but his tattered striped uniform, which almost does nothing to prevent the cold from seeping into his bones, but Even doesn’t care. He is one with the cold, anyways. He cannot be hurt by it. The wind goes right through him, does not phase him. It wouldn’t have phased Andreas either. Instead, now, his blood on Even’s hands gives him protection, allows Even to dig a hole underneath the weak spot in the fence, and take in a mouthful of dirt as he goes through the dug out hole headfirst. Even tastes nothing.

Even does nothing as the as the light flashes on him, does nothing as the voices shout out to him, asking him to turn around and put his hands on his head.

Instead, he runs.

He runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he-

Just like he’s always wanted to. He runs so fast that he’s flying. When he is far enough away, he lets out a shrill laugh into the night, blesses the skies. Sonja is watching down on him, and she is laughing along. Andreas has joined her, and together, the three of them rejoice.

Even has done it. For once in his life, he is finally free. He feels nothing but elation, truly and fully, in a way that he has only ever dreamed of before.

His wooden shoes do not do much against the cold, nor against the twigs and rocks that he stumbles upon, but he does not care. All he knows is that he must run.

He must fly. He must fly for all the times that he was not able to. He must fly for Andreas, who was never able to love truly and fully. And finally, he must fly for Sonja, because this is what she wanted for him.

 

Even breaks into a brisk jog for the next couple days, stopping only to drink from the few streams that he runs across. He keeps to the forest, away from the main road, but still attempts to look for any signs that are in French.

His feet become tired, and yet Even still trudges on, walking at a brisk march, as the elation fades.

“Sonja wanted this for you,” Even whispers to himself, his throat dry after hours of no water. “She wanted you to find France, just need to find any sign in French and then I’ll find a place to rest.”

 

Even walks for another day or so, and then he stumbles upon his first sign.

 _‘Humain’_ it says. In French.

Perhaps Belgium, Even reasons to himself, as he stumbles his shaky legs across the cold dirt.

He’s finally tired, so fucking tired. Even knows that he should continue, but the invincibility feels as though it has worn off. He is no longer protected by Andreas’ blood, nor Sonja’s.

He doesn’t even really know what he was thinking, with the invincibility and all that. Back home, Even has never been this stupid, and courageous.

He stumbles upon a barn, the entrance old and rusted, and Even can’t help himself anymore. He is now much too cold to continue, especially considering the fact the he is not wearing socks.

With all his strength, he wrenches the old door open, and then shuts it behind himself, breathing in the slightly warmer air of the old barn with a sigh of relief. He has every intention of collapsing on a hay bale, when a familiar symbol catches his eye.

A swastika, imprinted on a uniform that’s hung up to Even’s left. When Even touches the material, it is thick, probably made from wool, and warm. Without a single thought, ignoring the fact that everything would normally be screaming at Even to not do this, he begins to take off his pyjamas, and puts on the uniform.

Right away, Even is surrounded by warmth. It makes him even more hazy, his vision blurring around the edges. How long has it been since Even has eaten? Perhaps not since dinner time, the night that he left camp. How long ago was that? Perhaps four days ago? Even isn’t sure.

The black spots return, but this time, no one beautiful, man nor woman, dances in front of him. This time, it is simply the darkness, the one that has followed Even around for as long as he can remember. The one that took his mother and Sonja and Andreas from him. The one that turned his brother and father into evil men. The one that prevented Even from flying in the past. It shrouds him now, places a blanket over his shoulders, thick and stifling.

 _You killed him, Even,_ it says, its voice oddly soothing. _You killed her as well. You’re never going to meet anyone like that ever again. You just need to sleep. That’s it. Just sleep and never get up._

Even obeys, collapsing against the hay bale and shutting his eyes automatically. The darkness follows, pressing down on Even’s chest. He sees nothing, hears nothing, is nothing.

Nevertheless, he sleeps.

 


End file.
